The Greengrass Contract
by ncronan
Summary: Sirius Black dies in a dementor attack in Harry's third year. Using this tragedy to propel himself forward, he finds himself thrown into professional Quidditch, the TriWizard Tournament, dating and, most of all, a marriage contract, permanently bonding Harry Potter to Daphne Greengrass. {sequel is currently being written}
1. Part One: Chapter One

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-**  
><strong>by ncronan<strong>

Chapter 1: Decision

In the summer of 1994, on July the 31st, Harry Potter decided to take shit no more. He had a fiery rage burning in his heart, but it was masked by a dull depression. The question is, who was he mad it? An important question; one that he was asking himself: Who was the enemy of Harry Potter?

The dying light of the evening cast dark shadows across the prone figure of said boy. Harry glared at the ceiling whilst flexing his fingers until soft hooting broke the silence subtly. Harry told himself that the answer to the previous question should be answered as soon as possible, and the only person capable of answering it was himself.

And so, Harry found himself thinking in a full circle, and figured that idle thoughts wouldn't solve his dilemma. Thus, he created a purely mental list of people on his suspect list. The highest on his list was, surprisingly, the Headmaster.

Harry gathered what information he could in his mind. Dumbledore had left him on the Dursley's doorstep, exposing him to a decade of abuse and summers of neglect and labour that followed. But his motives must also be counted into his equation, and that was to save the Wizarding World. Seeing it from a wide perspective, Harry realized that the old man was doing what was 'right', even if it wasn't appreciated on Harry's part.

No, Albus Dumbledore was not his enemy. Nor was he the grandfatherly figure he displayed himself as. Dumbledore was their leader, albeit a bit cruel in his authoritative ways.

As Harry's mind wandered to the next person on his list, Petunia Dursley's mind wandered towards the direction of food; and thus she summoned her nephew from his deep thought, with a loud voice: "Get down here!"

Getting up slowly and leaving his room at the same speed, Harry admitted grudgingly that the Dursley's were much better than previous years, mostly due to the fact that Harry had announced his godfather's identity. Upon the realization that Sirius Black the mass murderer was related to and concerned about Harry, Vernon had tried to give custody of the 'brat' to anyone willing to listen to his plea.

The thought of Sirius caused Harry to choke up slightly in his throat. After Harry had driven off the countless dementors days before he'd left Hogwarts in his third year, he and Hermione were able to save Sirius and the Azkaban escapee had flown off. But, to Harry's horror, the swarm of dementors he had just recently driven off came back with a vengeance, causing Harry's godfather to fall to his death in Black Lake. The Lake's name held a cruel irony, and Harry didn't feel that he'd ever be able to go near it again without seeing his godfather's demise in his mind.

Harry grinned ruefully, despite these depressing thoughts, stepping down the stairs that formed the roof of his old sleeping quarters. If Vernon was able to get rid of Harry, Harry would be more than happy to leave his abusive family forever.

Upon entering the kitchen, Petunia eyed him warily. Harry decided that the wariness was due to the fact that Petunia did not know how to address him. His recent contact with a mass murderer caused Petunia to be afraid and paranoid of calling her nephew a freak or a brat. So the calculating woman instead said, "Boy, when we've finished dinner, you can go to your room. Dudley is out with his friends, so it's just you and me."

Harry blinked at the woman, who by her posture seemed to be getting prepared to cook alongside someone. "Er . . . yes, Petunia."

And to his disbelief, Harry was cooking grilled cheese sandwiches with his aunt, who hadn't uttered a single scathing word the whole time. This no-speak streak carried on until the two had set the pile of four sandwiches onto the dining table; Harry had turned to leave when Petunia snapped, "What are you doing? Get a plate and sit down!"

Harry hurried to obey, and a minute later, to his utter amazement, the two relatives were having a subtle meal, at the same time, at the same table, without one yelling at the other.

Silence reigned for several more minutes until Petunia said tersely, "I know that your godfather died."

Harry said nothing in reply, but his eyes said it for him; they became a more dull forest green instead of their usual bright emerald hue. Watching her nephew breathe slowly through his nose, Petunia continued, "I just wanted to say that I won't tell Vernon."

Harry looked up sharply, and Petunia stared evenly back. "Is there any way that you can leave this house? Vernon is getting unbearable, and if you leave, it'll be better for both of us."

Harry blinked slowly, gears turning quickly. This was his only chance. To leave, and to have the freedom to do whatever he wished. With a start, Harry realized that if he was trying to find his enemy, he'd have to look at the people's traits, and just how much they were hindering his freedom. And in this moment, where he had his only chance, Harry blurted, "Tonight, I can go to the Wizarding bank and try to find out who my guardians could be."

Petunia immediately agreed that this would be a good idea, and asked what mode of transport he'd be using. Harry assured her that he'd be able to handle it by himself, and within five minutes, Petunia had taken out his locked possessions, and Harry had packed everything. In order to conserve space, Harry had also thrown out Hedwig's cage, and would instead have her perch on his shoulder, or flying alongside him. Harry slipped his wand into his pocket and turned to his aunt, and they both were silent. Harry had no expression on his handsome face, while Petunia had conflicting looks; a mix of confusing and sadness. Harry smirked slightly, and attempted to lighten the mood, saying, "It's okay, Auntie, no need to cry; I'm sure you can manage the chores all yourself."

Petunia, with the faintest ghost of a smile, ushered him out of the door, into the pleasantly cool summer air. "I'll send a letter if I find a guardian. Otherwise, if I don't, I'll just come back." Harry said, and Petunia nodded. After several more seconds of awkward standing around, Petunia softly closed the door, and Harry turned with his wand in his right hand.

**OooOooO**

Having left his things at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry practically skipped through the bustling Wizarding marketplace, already mentally recovered from his violent ride on the Knight Bus.

The night summer air was humid and warm, cushioning Harry's skin with a loving touch, and the torchlight shined on his beaming face. The winding street was swarming with adult wizards, bright torches on each side of the thin cobble path. The high signs on each side were illuminated by a massive moon, and Harry was as happy as could be.

First, he figured that he should get straight down to business and head to Gringotts. Looking back, Harry admitted that he wanted to go to Gringotts so that he could walk down the merry street and converse with random people, but who wouldn't?

Stepping inside the bank and watching the quiet and peaceful nature of the soft scratching of quills on parchment, Harry walked past the two rows of writing goblins, their wrinkly faces fairly menacing in their concentration.

Upon reaching the front desk, Harry looked up confidently at the goblin and said, "I'd like to access my vault, sir."

The goblin took his sweet time, putting down his parchment slowly and looking down upon the boy. "State your name."

"Harry Potter."

The goblin nodded just as slowly, the name eliciting no obvious reaction. "Do you have a key, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Either Rubeus Hagrid or Albus Dumbledore has it. And please, call me Harry."

The goblin nodded in understanding. "In which case, we were already going to do a blood test on you. Please, follow me."

The goblin went down a small wooden stairwell to get off the desk, and Harry followed him around to the back, noticing that another goblin had immediately cycled into the previous one's position.

As they walked, Harry inquired, "What did you say about blood tests? I thought only Muggles used those."

"You are thinking of the wrong test, Mr. P - Harry. Sit down, please."

Harry found himself at a small table with several envelopes on it, and he obeyed the goblin. But when the short creature pulled out an intricate knife, Harry flinched.

"It's alright, Mr. - Harry. The dagger is charmed not to hurt, and your skin will heal itself. Just slit your hand a little bit and let the blood drip on this parchment." The goblin said, pushing forward a blank parchment and holding out the knife. Harry took the knife and slowly slit his hand, and asked, "What's your name?"

As his blood hit the parchment, it spread and covered almost the whole paper, causing Harry to almost tip over his chair. "Griphook." The goblin replied after a length, taking the parchment back. "Watch."

Harry watched, wide-eyed, as the now red-blotted parchment formed white words near the middle. It said,

_Harry James Potter_

_Born July 31, 1980. Attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Gringotts meeting due:_

_The Wills of James Charles Potter and Lily Evans Potter, and Sirius Orion Black._

_Titles:_

_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_

_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter_

Harry whistled, and the goblin nodded. "That's not all."

Even as he spoke, more words formed, and these words appeared:

_When Harry starts his fourth year, Albus, you should reveal the contract to him._

Harry's jaw dropped, and Griphook chuckled. "Before you start asking questions about that, let's read the Wills."

Harry shook himself. He'd read about such contracts, of course, and knew what they were; they were binding magical contracts, which is a natural, magically-enforced agreement between two or more wizards or witches who partake in it. If you didn't you'd lose your magic, or you'd die. Pushing this out of his mind, he watched Griphook take out three envelopes. Using a letter-opener, he slit it open flawlessly and took out the parchment, and said,

"The final will and testament of James Charles Potter and Lily Evans Potter, as observed by Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.

To Albus, we leave 5,000 galleons every year Harry attends Hogwarts; this is for any damage done by what I assume will be seven years full of pranking. (Ow, Lily! No, I'm not encouraging him!)

To Remus, we leave 10,000 galleons every year to pay for your living, and the Potter Manor. We know that it'll be hard for you to find a job due to your furry little problem, but we have faith in you.

To Sirius, we leave the same as I did Remus. You two can share the Manor, since we know that Sirius will be too lazy to get a job. Take care of Harry, both of you.

To Peter Pettigrew, we leave 2,500 galleons. Sorry, Peter, but we all know that we never really were very good friends, but we feel that we can trust you enough for you to be the Secret-Keeper.

To Minerva, we leave our cottage in Scotland, and it's quite close to Hogwarts. Take care of Harry, assuming he's in Gryffindor (which he bloody well will be. Ow! Lily!)

To Harry, we leave everything else, and the title of Head of House Potter. If you're reading this, then we're both dead, and we're terribly sorry, but stay strong, son. We love you."

There was silence as Griphook turned and called another goblin, saying, "Send this to the Ministry right away. Sirius Black is innocent, and his family should be compensated."

Harry sniffed heavily, and Griphook eyed him. "Are you ready to move on, Harry?"

Harry nodded mutely as Griphook read out,

"The final Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black, as observed by Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.

To Albus, I leave 50,000 galleons, to help with whatever projects you feel like doing in the future. Thanks for everything, old man.

To Remus, I leave 10,000 galleons yearly, since Prongs did it first. Stay awesome, Moony.

To James and Lily, I leave half of the Black fortune, which is somewhere in the ten million galleons range. Donate it to a charity or something. I love you guys.

To Peter, I leave 2,500 galleons, Sorry, Wormtail, but you were a bit of a follower.

To Andromeda and Nymphadora, I reinstate you into the Black family, leave you a quarter of the Black fortune, and the Black Manor in Northern Scotland. Have fun, Nymphy.

To Harry, I leave everything else. I love you, pup. Have fun with your life, and don't waste it on mourning the dead. Live it to the fullest, kid.

Harry's eyes brimmed with tears, and Griphook nodded gravely. After the silence stretched a fine amount, Harry breathed in and said, "I almost forgot. The reason I came here was to see if I could transfer my guardianship to anyone else."

Griphook nodded again. "The bank has discussed this, and first, you were supposed to go to Sirius, but he was in Azkaban. Then, to Remus, but Magical law states that he is not human, and so not able to become a guardian. Next to Minerva, but she lived at Hogwarts, and so couldn't take you in. And next, Dumbledore, but he had much to many things on his hands, and had no time to take care of you, and so on and so forth. The reason you ended with the Dursley's was because there was a loophole in the contract you mother and father instated: They said that their last choice was the Dursley's. During the Wizengamot meeting where they discussed where you could go, Lucius Malfoy came out and said that they literally meant the Dursely's as the 'last choice', and since the other guardians weren't fit, they were forced to send you there."

Harry glowered. "Well, they made a massive mistake." He hissed. "They treated me like a slave for my whole life."

Griphook said nothing, as he had no part in Harry's predicament, and wouldn't get involved in something that only humans endured. "Your guardianship will now be transferred to the next family in line, which is the Greengrasses. Would you like to arrange a meeting with them during the school year?" Harry nodded, not sure what he thought about the family, and then Griphook asked, "Mr. Potter-Black, would you like to withdraw from your vaults now?"

Harry nodded again, and Griphook stood and patted Harry on the shoulder, almost joyfully. "Come on, Harry. We've got sacks of money to transfer into the Potter family vault."

**OooOooO**

Meanwhile, a petite, 14 year old girl sat in a comfy chair by a large, roaring fire. To her right, her mother and father sat, and both were engaged in tense postures, causing the girl to be slightly scared. What was going on? Her parents had called her to the study, but not Astoria.

The father looked over at the girl after several minutes of anticipation. The girl was very beautiful, and took after her mother, with fluffy, curly brown hair, a sharp small nose and light red lips. Her skin was fair, and her eyes were a bright, piercing cyan. There was a reason they called her the Ice Queen of Slytherin, after all.

Damien Greengrass sighed. "Daph," He began, "What do you know about Harry Potter?"

Daphne blinked, her long lashes flashing. She had seen and heard Harry Potter frequently at Hogwarts. From what she heard from Snape, Draco and a few other Slytherins, he was a self-absorbed, obnoxious boy, who was always seeking attention. Of course, no one believed Draco whatsoever. The blonde-haired boy was a right prat, and all of Slytherin knew it. Casting up her memories, Daphne quickly realized that she did not know Harry Potter at all. He took his insults from Snape without complaint, something that Draco could never manage if from another teacher.

"Nothing, really. He's quiet in his classes, and I'm pretty sure he hit a growth spurt near the end of last year. He became taller than most of the girls in our year. Well, I haven't really heard nothing: I've heard the ridiculous stories going about, from first and second year. Something about killing a Basilisk and Professor Quirrell."

Damien nodded thoughtfully. "And what of Draco Malfoy?"

Daphne snorted, ice forming in her blue eyes. "A right prat. No one likes him, and if anyone talks back to him he threatens them with his daddy."

Damien nodded. Lucius had much of the same attitude. "And Daph . . . what do you know of Marriage Contracts?"

Daphne froze. "Did you - contract – with Malfoy?" She whispered in horror. Damien quickly backtracked.

"No, no, Daph, not at all. Trust me, we feel the same way about the Malfoy's."

Daphne sighed in relief. "Then why wouldd you bring up Marriage Contracts, if I'm not betrothed to anyone?"

Damien opened his mouth, but closed it quickly, having his wife finished for him. "You are, Daph." Apolline said quietly. "With the Potters."

Daphne froze once again. "With - with Potter? The Golden Boy of Gryffindor?"

Before her parents could respond, the fire in the fireplace glowed green, and a small, wrinkled head stuck out of it. The goblin head declared, "May I come in, Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass?"

The parents nodded quickly, and the goblin stepped through, brushing dust off of his Gringotts uniform. When he had finished grooming, he went over to the families and shook their hands. "Griphook, at your service. May I sit?"

The Greengrass' gestured a confirmation and he did so. His legs hanging off the chair, not reaching the ground. He then went down to business. "Mr. Greengrass, Harry Potter came to Gringotts today. He read the Wills of his parents and godfather, and he'll learn of the Marriage Contract before the school year starts. Have you told your daughter?"

Looking to his left, he found Daphne sitting there with an amazed expression. "Ah. I see you have."

At this remark, Daphne Greengrass didn't know what to think, and so she left without another word, to ponder on what life-changing events had occurred.

**OooOooO**

Several hours later, Harry Potter stepped out of Osiris's Optical with all the supplies he'd need for the next school year, and a few items extra. These items consisted of a wand holster, a fountain pen, a galleon sack from which Harry could withdraw money from his vault at any time, and (a last minute grab) magical contacts.

Why? Harry now pondered this as he left Diagon Alley and entered the musty Leaky Cauldron. When he had entered the optical shop, he'd only been there to have his eyes tested and maybe get some new glasses (his old ones were absolutely rubbish), but he found much more. Mortimer Osiris (owner of the shop) recognized Harry upon contact and refused to test him until he'd go with him to the back of the small building. When he'd done so, Osiris had introduced him to magical contacts. Magical contacts never had to be cleaned or taken out of the eye. In fact, there were charms so that they'd never fall out, and more charms to his eye so that his vision couldn't get any worse.

The wand holster he'd gotten was tied to his forearm, and when needed, all he'd have to do is think it, and his wand would slide into his hand. No explanation was needed for that one.

The pen was what Harry considered to be a massive improvement to the rudimentary quills that Hogwarts insisted they use. The pen was charmed so that whenever you ran out of ink, it would automatically tap into one of the large magical ink companies and buy from them. It was a meager galleon a month, and Harry figured that his penmanship and overall written essays would improve.

Harry then crossed the pub of the Leaky Cauldron and stepped up the stairs and into his designated room. Opening the creaky door, he threw off the new cloak he'd bought at the Alley, and reached into his pockets. Throwing the thing in his pocket onto his bed, he looked around at his room.

It was very small, but warm and homely. The wallpaper on the walls was a dark blue with hints of grey, and the floor was wood with a carpet on it. There was a large window on one side that overlooked the night-covered Diagon Alley, and a small desk in front of it, with a candle and parchment. To the right, in the corner, was his bed, with thick white sheets covering the mattress, and Hedwig perched in its frame, her food in a small bowl next to her. There were drawers on the left side of the room, and a large, Harry-sized mirror next to that. Finally, in the corner to the left of the door, was a small sink. The sink was small because the only thing that you needed it for was for washing your hands. There were many spells one could use to brush your teeth, and there was a public restroom down the hall. Over all, it was a much better room that what he'd had at the Dursley's, and Harry loved it.

Reaching into the pocket of his discarded cloak, Harry pulled out a small, palm-sized chest and placed it carefully next to the bed. It was plain, with a silver trim running around the lid. Following the instruction given to him in the Alley, Harry softly set his palm on top of the chest and said, "_Finite incantatem._"

The chest, having been hit by a shrinking charm, returned to its former size, which came up to the bed's side. The chest channeled your magic straight from you into itself, much like a wand does. Rather than actual spells, the words spoken were more like key-words, thus the Ministry didn't come down onto him and arrest him for underage magic.

Now that the chest was enlarged, you could see a handprint that is exactly Harry's size on top of the lid. To open it, Harry placed his hand on it and murmured quietly the password: "_The Enemy._" This password was obviously inspired by the thought process that he planned to finish in his free time.

The lid flashed a faint gold as it unlocked, and Harry popped open the top. Looking in, he found that the enlargement charm worked; on the inside, it looked like there was almost three feet of space vertically, with his fourth year books piled on top of one another in two piles. To the right of that, there was a pile of Hogwarts robes, some deep green dress robes, and a t-shirt, hoodie, jeans, and jogging pants for the days where he could lounge around, like on weekends.

Taking out one of the optional books, a Guide to Magical Theory, Harry began to read.

**OooOooO**

Meanwhile, at the Greengrass Manor, Daphne Greengrass was confused and angry. Storming off into her room, she slammed the door behind her and buried her face into her very comfortable bed.

The Greengrasses were somewhat new pure-blood family. They started out as barley farmers in France in the Renaissance, and they were very closely related to the Malfoys; in fact, the Malfoys were actually a branch of the Greengrasses, but they were driven from France for High Treason (hence the name mal foi, which means bad faith), while the Greengrasses earned their name from the multitude of lush green fields they owned. Not only were they driven from France and branded with their name, but the Malfoys were also cursed to forever have pale hair and bare faces, to mark them as French traitors. The Greengrasses continued to be a peaceful family, and then moved to Great Britain in the early 1800s. From there, they stayed a firmly neutral magical family. Damien Greengrass was a politician, and Apolline was a potion brewer, but never became a master, or pursued higher education. Instead, she fell in love with Damien, and their first child, Daphne, and then another, Astoria. In contrary to popular belief, the Greengrasses stayed neutral.

Having reviewed this knowledge over in her mind, Daphne wondered how she would go about this. Harry Potter was a mysterious figure to her, but her friend, Tracey Davis, had done research on all boys she deemed fit for her affections. Among these was Daphne and Tracey's best friend, Blaise Zabini, who unfortunately turned out to be gay. He had revealed this only to his two female friends, and the two swore never to tell anyone about it. Blaise was a good friend to her, but Daphne found him too quiet, and she would often forget he was there.

The good thing about Tracey was that she was from a long line of pure-bloods, but her grandfather had married a half-blood, and thus she herself was labeled a half-blood. The Greengrasses did not believe in the pure-blood elitist idea, and the Davis family was often away on trips, so Tracey was often left to stay with Daphne over the summer. Daphne then remembered that Tracey would be staying with her in several weeks until Hogwarts, and decided she would ask her about her Harry Potter enigma. But before then, she would review what she knew.

Harry Potter was (near the end of Third Year) becoming quite tall. He was what they call a late bloomer, and so both Granger and Weasley had been taller than him up until said year. The boy had messy black hair and bright green eyes (she was told that they were stunning), and was scrawny as anything. He wore his school robes whenever Daphne had seen him, but the one time she's seen him in casual clothes, he wore a shirt that was several sizes too large for him and pants that required an ugly brown belt to keep up on his bony hips. Was this the boy that she was betrothed to?

With a sudden drive, she went to her desk under the window, grabbed some parchment, and scribbled out a brief message, addressed to Harry Potter. Putting down her quill, she stood and petted her owl, Jesse. It was small and black with white marks, and was her favorite animal.

"Hey, girl." She murmured lovingly, petting her head, near her beak. Earning a small 'hoot' in return, she continued, "Can you take this to wherever Harry Potter is? I know you've never delivered to him before, but I suspect he's at the Leaky Cauldron, since the goblin said he was at Gringotts."

Snatching an envelope and opening it and preparing the Greengrass Seal, she looked over at the large, old grandfather clock in the corner of her room. It was almost 1 A.M in the morning, but she decided that it wouldn't matter. Daphne had heard that Potter had an owl, and Jesse could stay with the snowy-white bird until Potter sent a reply. Once she'd slid the letter into an envelope, she tied it to one of Jesse's feet, and the owl took off into the night.

**OooOooO**

Harry Potter was shocked, to say the least. It was well into the night (around 3 A.M), and not halfway into the thick tome that was the Guide to Magical Theory, he had hit a massive piece of information. Looking over it again, it said,

Magical power resides in the wizard/witch, first and foremost. Contrary to popular belief, the wand does not 'choose' the wizard/witch; the wand's core and the wizard/witch's magic in contact with it are compatible with each other, and so the wand's core sends a pulse of magic through itself and into the wizard/witch, provoking a reaction. Similar to this, a wizard/witch's emotion is the key thing that ties into his/her magic. Accidental magic is caused solely by high emotions, thus when the wizard/witch feels extreme anger/happiness/anxiety, their magic is enhanced. This enhancement only works with the stronger emotions, thus it would not work with any form of depression. Adrenaline also channels straight into the wizard/witch's magic, either enhancing it perfectly, or overpowering the spell.

One other large factor pertaining to a wizard/witch's magical performance is physical fitness. Although it may seem controversial, a wizard/witch's fitness level directly influences the power bursts from which you cast spells. If the wizard/witch is malnourished or obese, their magic will restrain itself as to protect the wizard/witch. Why? If the wizard/witch is not fit, their magic could essentially kill them. This is the reason old wizard/witches are killed by magical overload.

This was the biggest news Harry had ever heard. His life at the Durley's was far from perfect – in fact, it bordered on abuse. The malnourishment he's endured was interfering with his magic. This was a surprise; Lupin had said in Third Year that few teenagers had ever mastered the Patronus Charm. This thought made him extremely excited: if that was what his magic was like with his underweight stature, what would happen if he was fit? What could he accomplish then?

His excited thoughts were interrupted when Hedwig began hooting at him, and a series of taps resonated from his window frame. Staring out into the night, he saw the silhouette of an owl, framed the light of the bright white moon. He quickly unlatched the window and pulled it in, letting the owl fly in and settle on the bed frame next to Hedwig. Harry admired the pretty black and white owl at first before carefully untying the envelope attached to its leg.

The Seal on the front, sealing the card, depicted two wand crossing, with a single stalk of a plant that looked like wheat in the middle. Carefully opening the envelope and taking out the concealed parchment, Harry read,

Dear Potter,

I am not sure of how much you've heard, but we will have to meet on the Hogwarts Express in the third to last compartment, right when we get on. We have much to discuss. You may not know what I'm talking about, but send a reply as soon as possible.

Answer swiftly,

Daphne G.

The penmanship was flawless, the signature signed with a flourish, and Harry was slightly intimidated. He had only seen fleeting glimpses of who he assumed to be Daphne Greengrass. She was, if nothing else, very pretty. Harry had never seen her in contact with Malfoy, Parkinson, or Bulstrode, only another pretty girl with brown hair. Davis, her name was.

Reading over the letter again, Harry confirmed that it had something to do with the contract the Wills had referenced to. With both excitement and fear, Harry wrote a quick reply, and tied it to Hedwig.

"Here, girl." Harry murmured lovingly. "You haven't had much action lately, and the girl's owl seems tired. You think you can make it?"

Hedwig hooted once, haughtily, and lifted her head upwards in a condescending manner, as though saying, "Of course, silly boy. What do you think I am, a songbird?"

"Oh! Don't go yet, girl. I nearly forgot." Harry said quickly, snatching out his pen and scribbling another letter that said,

_Dear Petunia Dursley,_

_My guardianship has been transferred. You won't be seeing me again, hopefully._

_With indifference,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry stood up, slid this letter into another envelope, and tied it to smiled and pet her, before send her off into the darkness, her wings disturbing the smoke coming off the candle that had been put out by the cool night air. Closing the window behind his owl, Harry sat back down in the comfortable chair at his desk and once again let his mind wander into his thoughts. Daphne Greengrass, a beautiful Slytherin, was meeting with him on the Hogwarts Express. What did this mean?

With a start, Harry realized what it meant for him. There was barely a month left of summer, and there was a beautiful girl awaiting his arrival. Sure, it most likely isn't for romantic terms, but nevertheless, Harry thought about how he should present himself. And when he thought this, he put two and two together, and stood up and went to his mirror.

Peering in, he found that he did indeed look much better without his glasses; the glasses seemed to mute his eyes just a bit, and without them, his face looked skinnier, and more mature; less little boyish. Look down at his torso, he found that yes, he was scrawny, but not overly so. With Quidditch practice and the long staircases and walks between classrooms, he was skinny, but semi-fit. He decided to fix that with lots of exercise and more protein and vegetables in his diet. Right then, he would not earn the affections of the girls at school. But with the right push, Harry Potter would become better.

And he would push himself to the limit to do so.

**OooOooO**

Daphne woke up blearily, finding herself in the comfortable, yet hard chair in front of her desk. Moving her neck side to side, trying to get rid of the ache, she concluded that she must have fallen asleep thinking about the contract. What a depressing thing to think about, too.

Opening her eyes, she was hit by a ray of sunshine coming from her open window, and she immediately closed them again. She brought her hands to her face, and found that her face was freezing. She then found that the reason for this was that her window was wide open, and the cool night air had filled her room. She then found that her room was indeed very chilly, and she closed the window.

Daphne then called out, "Tape?", there was a _*pop*,_ and a house-elf appeared behind her.

"What can Tape do for Mistress Daphne?" Tape asked, large ears flapping against her head.

"Cast a warming charm in this room, please." Daphne said, hugging her arms to herself.

The elf did so, and Daphne dismissed her. Warmth circulated into her limbs, and she sighed in relief. Before she could continue basking in the nice temperature, there was a series of taps at her window, and she found that a beautiful snowy-white owl was at the glass.

Unlatching the window and grabbing what she assumed to be Potter's returning letter, she read it over.

_Dear Ms. Greengrass,_

_I apologize if I tired out your owl, but you did say to answer swiftly, and I have done so. I agree to meet you on the Express at the designated place, although I do not know of what you speak of. When I was read parents' Wills yesterday, however, they mentioned something about a contract. Does this have anything to do with what you wish to discuss? The Wills also mentioned that Dumbledore should inform me of what it is about by the time I get to school, but I'm hoping that you'll tell me what you know._

_Answer soon,_

_Harry P._

Reading it over, Daphne found that Potter's handwriting was decent, but could have much improvement. It seemed that this Harry Potter was far different from the way Draco and the other Slytherins portrayed him. This Harry seemed somewhat intelligent, which was, again, a giant leap from what Draco normally spoke of him as.

Despite herself, Daphne felt intrigued. Who was Harry Potter?

**OooOooO**

For the last month before school, Harry pushed himself to the limit. Everyday in the mornings, he would go on a jog around Diagon Alley, and then eat a wholesome breakfast. He would then study until lunch, where he would run again and eat again. For the rest of the day, he would alternate between studying and exercising his upper body. And for dinner, he would eat a balanced meal. Accompanying all the food he ate, he drank a glass of milk. And for the rest of the night, until he fell asleep, he studied. He was determined to do well on all of his assignments this year; the constant exercise and studying opened his eyes as to how lazy and idiotic Ron and he had been. And whenever he thought of this, the same thought would go through his head: "Sirius had died in the blink of an eye. Life is too short to laze around and eat all day." And whenever he thought this, he would push himself harder, and run a little farther each day.

Over the next four weeks, Harry noticed a definite but gradual improvement. He was slowly growing (an astounding half an inch a week), and he saw himself getting – well –thicker. His legs were getting defined, as well as his arms. His torso was showing massive improvement as well: there was a faint outline of a four-pack, and his pecs were decently defined. Over all, he was toned, and far from overly muscled. Harry found the pictures in the Muggle world of massive, bulking men pretty disgusting. Harry even got magical braces; he'd found that his two front teeth jutted forward a considerable amount, although it was barely noticeable. The magical braces worked within a week, and Harry (to his embarrassment) would flash himself smiles in his mirror, and spend several minutes a day flexing, shirtless, in the same place.

And all too soon, it was the night before the riding of the Hogwarts Express, and Harry was never more excited in his life.


	2. Part One: Chapter Two

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-**  
><strong>by ncronan<strong>

Chapter 2: Reactions

"Betrothed?" Tracey Davis gasped. "When? Why? To who? Don't tell me it's Malfoy?"

Daphne put her head in her hands, clutching her hair. They were currently in Daphne's room, with Jesse back in her usual spot. They were both seated at Daphne's bed. Daphne was drinking some tea and Tracey was sitting next to her, staring open-mouthed at said girl. It was early morning, and Tracey had arrived later than she had expected. With only a day to go until the boarding of the Hogwarts Express, Daphne was desperate to have at least some prior knowledge of her betrothed before their meeting. If Daphne stuck out for anything, it was her confident, condescending persona that everyone believed to be her real personality (except Tracey and Blaise, of course). Her 'Ice Queen' title was not earned through pleasant chats, nor goofy smiles. Unfortunately, her persona did nothing to discourage the advances of Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott (who was a nice boy, but was slightly taken up in the pure-blood elitist ideas, and was also pretty overweight).

"Thank Merlin it's not." Daphne sighed. "If it were, I'd have swum all the way to France, where his ancestors are still milking their cows."

Tracey laughed, and inquired again, "So, who is the one who you shall tie the knot with?"

"Tracey!" Daphne hissed, but there was a tug at the corner of her mouth. "This is not funny! Or anything good, for that matter?"

Tracey's eyes widened in mock-terror. "It's not Goyle or Crabbe, is it? There would be a silver-lining, though. You would have the cutest little gorilla babies."

Daphne punched her friend in the arm. "Dammit, Trace! You've put thoughts into my head that I may have seizures from!"

Tracey rolled around on the bed laughing. "And – if – it were – with – Draco, you could make – cute – little – albino rodents!"

Daphne choked on her tea, half from disgust and half from a chortle that was making its way to her face. Tracey was still laughing, hard. "I – won't – even – get – started on – Theo and your - walrus babies!"

At this, Daphne couldn't contain her laughter, and she too, laughed with her friend. After several minutes, they calmed down, and Daphne lapsed back into sadness again. Tracey looked at her seriously. "Sorry, Daph, but you needed that."

Daphne sighed. "Yeah. I did." They sat in silence for half a minute, before Tracey became too agitated.

"So, who is it?" Tracey asked. Daphne didn't answer for a while, but she finally said,

"Potter. It's the damn Golden Gryffindor." Daphne let out. Tracey's eyebrows went up.

"You didn't hear? Harry Potter's gone missing!" Tracey exclaimed, and Daphne perked up.

Tracey continued, "It happened during early August. Dumbledore went to check on him at his Muggles' house, and he wasn't there! They said some rubbish about Potter running away, but Dumbledore wasn't allowed to check with Legilimency. He's been searching Surrey for a month."

Daphne knit her eyebrows. "Potter lives with Muggles? Alright, Trace, back up. I need you to spill everything you know about Potter right now. Go."

"Okay, so apparently, Potter lived with his Muggle aunt, uncle, and cousin until he was 11. When he was 11, he first learned about magic, and came then went to Hogwarts. Those baggy clothes he wears? Those are most likely hand-me-downs, from his cousin. No else knows very much about his home life, not even Granger, but I think Weasley knows something. He said some rubbish about Potter being jailed in his own room, but Potter's very secretive about what he does over the summer and things. Anyway, when he first came to Hogwarts, he was super skinny and short, but no one knows why. And then there were those stories about how he killed Quirrell, and then the basilisk, and then his godfather was the mass murderer who got killed by dementors. That last part might be true, since we all saw him do that Patronus at one of the Quidditch games. That was amazing. He started growing a bit at the end of last year, too. I have a feeling he's probably taller than Granger and Weasley now, even though Weasley's lanky as hell. As for Potter's romantic life, he's barely had any action at all. I heard that he has a little group of admirers, biggest of which is the girl Weasley, and I heard that the little boy Gryffindor, Creevey, is gay, and has a crush on Potter. Bit creepy, if you ask me. Took pictures of him in Second Year and whatnot."

Daphne blinked at Tracey in surprise. "How the bloody hell did you know all of that?" and Tracey shrugged.

"You and I both know we started getting interested in the male population last year. I mean, you did plenty of research on the Ravenclaw you dated. Who was it?"

"Terry Boot, but it didn't work out, since he was a wimp when it came to asking me out to Hogsmeade. In fact, most of the boys in our year are still sissies when it comes to talking to us girls. And you dated Michael Corner, right?"

"Right. But whenever we'd go to Hogsmeade, he'd just go hang out with his friends and leave me." Tracey responded. "But enough of that! What are you going to do about Potter?"

Daphne shrugged helplessly. "I'm going to meet with him on the train -"

"Oh, want a good snog already? Boot wasn't good enough? You did snog a couple times, I remember -"

"You're one to talk! You broke up with Corner because his hands kept venturing too far south." Daphne retorted. Tracey glowered.

"Yeah. That pervert. But we keep going off topic, dammit! What are you gonna talk about with Potter?"

"I'll tell him about the contract."

"He doesn't know yet?"

"No, how would he? He replied to my letter saying that his parent's Will just referenced it."

Tracey whistled. "Daphne, this is an amazing opportunity to mold Potter into the perfect guy."

"What?"

"Open your eyes! He's famous, powerful, and most likely easily manipulated! I've also heard that he's pretty compassionate. You two'll be a nice match -"

"No, we won't! We're polar opposites!"

"Exactly. I reckon Weasley and Granger'll end up together. Their complete opposites, and they bicker a lot, but they steal glances at each other all the time. I won't be surprised when -"

"Enough about that! What should I do with Potter?" Daphne cried. Tracey shrugged.

"Get to know him. Your heart may never open up to him, but your mind can. The sooner you two warm up to each other, the sooner you can snog – I mean, be happy."

Daphne sighed, and put her head in her hands again. "Well, I'll wing it, then. If what you've said is true, he'll be as more clueless than I am."

Tracey nodded. "That's the spirit! And you can teachhim how to snog, just the way you like!"

Daphne's response was a punch to the arm and another cold look.

**OooOooO**

His greatest enemy. The antagonist of his life. Again, Harry found himself thinking of this as he leaned against a tan, stone arch. Although the early September sky was bright, blue, and cloudless above the glass ceiling of King's Cross Station, it was slightly chilly, and Harry flipped up his hoodie. Harry had decided, before arriving, that he would wait and see what Daphne actually looked like before entering Platform 9¾. His vague memories were far from ideal when he sought to remember the face of the Slytherin girl.

King's Cross Station was a very pretty place, with its massively high ceilings and train whistles going off in the distance. Crossing his arms, he, watched the hurrying throngs of Muggles, seeking their next destination as quickly as possible. His thoughts wandering back to its main train, Harry decided that no Muggle was his enemy. Sure, the Dursleys were bad (on the border of abusive), but Harry dealt with such bigotry at Hogwarts, too. The Malfoys were just as bad, but then again, they weren't the ones that hurt him . . .

Shaking himself from bad thoughts, he went back to his list. Dumbledore and the Dursleys were off, which meant that the Malfoy family was off, too. Next was -

Harry was wrenched from his thoughts once again when he heard the words, "Platform 9¾,"

Looking in the direction of the sound, he found a little, nervous family of three; a mother, father, and a little eleven year old with a large trolley in front of her. Harry felt sorry. This youngster was obviously Muggle-born, and was just as lost and confused as Harry had been on his first time. Pitying the child, Harry walked over and knelt down slowly, flipping off his hood, so that the kid could see Harry was clearly not trying to attack her. Her parents were distracted, looking around them, trying to find some help.

"Hey. Are you going to Hogwarts this year?" Harry murmured.

The kid, wide-eyed, nodded. Harry felt the urge to smirk, but held it in.

"I can show you how to get onto the Platform, if you like." Harry said, and the kid nodded again, a smile of relief forming on her features. Harry straightened up, getting the parents' attention, and spoke to them,

"Is your daughter going to Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked quietly. Although not widely known, the Statute of Secrecy said that one wasn't even supposed to speak of magic with Muggles near you, but Harry figured that if he spoke quietly enough, the Muggles would be too busy to give them a second glance. Entering into his first year, Harry was very lucky that Molly Weasley was not aware of that particular Clause in the Statute, otherwise Harry might never had made it onto the Express.

The parents looked absolutely relieved. "Thank God there's a wizard here -" The man said, exasperated, but Harry quickly put a finger to his own lips.

"Statute of Secrecy. We can't talk that loudly, or the other Muggles might here." Harry said in a quiet tone, and the man shut his mouth, quickly. Harry smiled and nodded.

"I can take your daughter through, if you like." Harry said quietly and gently. "It's simple, but you can't come with. Unfortunately, only those with magic in their blood can pass the wall, so you should say your goodbyes right now."

The parents hugged the girl and wished her goodbye and the like, and when they were done, Harry held out his hand for the girl to take. She took it cautiously, and Harry said in her ear, "Don't be scared. We're going to walk into the wall, and everything will go dark for a second, but just keep holding my hand, alright?"

The girl paled slightly but nodded again. Harry nodded to the parents, who thanked him over and over, and Harry took the trolley from her, saying that he'll push it for her.

Without another word, Harry walked confidently towards the wall, with the girl in nervous tow. When they were several feet from the wall, the girl fidgeted, but held on nevertheless. When they finally hit the wall, everything went dark for a second, and suddenly, they were in another place: an identical copy of one side of King's Cross, but this train was black and red, with large headlights and wizards in robes rushing around it.

Looking back, Harry found that the girl had her eyes squeezed shut, and was holding her breath, and Harry laughed. "It's alright, kid, we're there."

The girl let out an awe-inspired gasp, and looked all around her. Whispering, "How did you do that?" Harry laughed again. He put a finger to his lips. "It's a secret," was his reply. "what's your name, by the way?"

The girl answered, "Natalie McDonald_*****_," as Harry pulled her forward and pushed her trolley.

"That's pretty, but not as pretty as mine. Harry Potter, at your service." Harry said cheekily, and the girl giggled. Harry stopped at the side of the tracks and wheeled her trolley up next to the line of several others, explaining to Natalie that they would be transported magically to Hogwarts.

Leading the girl onto the train, he gestured down the long hallway. "You can go find a compartment with some of the other first years. Tell me if any bother you. If anyone calls you 'mudblood', come to me immediately so I can whip him into shape,"

The girl giggled again, and Harry held out his hand. The small girl placed hers in his tentatively, and Harry bent down and kissed it. "Pleasure to be of service."

The girl giggled one last time before rushing off down the hallway.

And from behind him, he heard, "Potter, move along. Third compartment from the last."

**OooOooO**

Daphne walked down the hallway confidently, clearing her mind as to prepare the right responses for their conversation. The boy in front of her, his back facing her, was several inches taller than the Harry Potter that had left on the Express last Year. That, and he was – thicker. He sported broader shoulders, with nice-fitting clothes and slim jeans. Daphne shivered. She had hoped that she'd be at least his height, so that Potter would be at the disadvantage, having to look up at her and loose confidence.

She watched as Potter ushered the kid down the hall gently. Tracey was right; he seemed nice enough. Mustering her courage and putting on her emotionless mask, saying, "Potter, move along. Third compartment from the last."

Harry whipped around, and Daphne could finally study the important half of Potter's body. His glasses were gone, and he was more tan than any other student she'd seen on the train. His teeth were perfectly straight, and his hair was messy as hell, but somehow made him seem rugged. He was not necessarily 'muscled' but more toned int the upper body, and his slim jeans fit him very well. Daphne now remembered, to her extreme embarrassment (and to his, if he found out), that Potter's arse was quite the looker. His green eyes was the main piece of his face: they were bright and sparkling, and went with his green and black hoodie very nicely.

Harry's eyes dimmed slightly when he recognized her, and the smile fell from his lips, to be replaced with an uncertainty that mirrored what Daphne was feeling at the moment. He nodded at her, "Greengrass," and walked down to their designated compartment. Passing several Gryffindors ("Why is a Slytherin following Harry?") and Slytherins ("What is Daphne following the Golden Boy for?"), Harry and Daphne stopped at the sliding door. Seeing that a girl was already in it, Harry looked questioningly at Daphne, and Daphne just nodded and gestured into the compartment. "Not scared of a couple more girls, are you, Potter?"

Surprisingly, Potter didn't say anything, and just slid open the door and entered the compartment. Daphne was mildly surprised. From what she'd heard, Potter couldn't keep his mouth shut when people ridiculed him, but apparently, that, too, has changed.

Stepping in, and sliding the door behind her, Daphne stepped and sat across from her betrothed, next to Tracey.

The minute the door was closed, Harry's wand appeared in his hand, he murmured a privacy spell on the door, and he turned on the girls.

"Alright, what the hell is going on? What do you want?" Harry asked demandingly, but not gruffly. Daphne and Tracey were taken aback, expecting Harry to be more stammer-y and blush-y. Tracey immediately sought to find dominance in the conversation.

"The same could be asked of you, Potter. What's the privacy charm for? Expecting a good snog?" Daphne silently approved of Tracey's tactic to try and unbalance the boy, but Harry saw it coming. With only a slight tint of pink to his cheeks, Harry shrugged and said, "Greengrass was secretive in her letter, so I suspect she won't want this thing to go around the masses."

Tracey stared at him for a long while, and then nodded. Then, in an over-exaggerated nudging of Daphne, she whispered loudly, "I like him. You better tell him the secret now."

Daphne glared at her, and Harry was further confused. "What's this about, then? I have to meet with my friends."

Daphne sighed, and remorsefully said, "Potter, you and I are betrothed."

Harry's demanding and confident demeanor vanished immediately. Instead of stammering, he opened his mouth and no sound came out. "Wha – oh, that's funny. Malfoy must have thought this absolutely hilarious. Well, you can tell him that I won't fucking stand for him anymore. If he touches any of my friends, I'll rip him limb from limb."

As he got up to go, Daphne commanded him to sit down. Harry stopped, and then glared at her. "Alright, then, prove that you're not lying. Why should I believe that my father, who married a supposed mudblood, agreed to something that only the old wizarding families do to gain political power and money."

Daphne was shocked at the knowledge Harry portrayed. "I swear on my magic that you are betrothed to the first-born girl of House Greengrass. So mote it be."

To Harry's horror, a flash of light surrounded Daphne, and when it disappeared, the Slytherin was glaring at him defiantly. "Well? Good enough for you?"

Harry growled colorful language under his breath. Sitting down, he clenched and unclenched his fists as Daphne still glared at him. "Don't look so alone about this, Potter. You're not the only one unhappy with this shit."

Harry closed his eyes and growled something about, "One goddamn normal year. Is that so much to fucking ask?"

When he had calmed down, Daphne expected him to begin to rant, but instead, he just pierced her with his searching green eyes and said coldly, "Well, what's the plan, oh Ice Queen?"

Daphne glared at him more defiantly. "Listen, Potter. The only way this will work is if we work together on it."

Harry glared at her, and a green fire erupted in his eyes. He stood up and slammed the compartment door open, saying to Daphne, "Talk to me later. I don't have the patience for this bullshit."

There was silence as the young man threw the door close. Tracey looked over at Daphne and suddenly smiled. "Those eyes. _Merlin_. I almost fainted."

As he stormed out of the small compartment and canceled the privacy charm, Harry considered that he had been too abrupt, and that their conversation probably should have been longer, but he quickly discarded this. With the stress of the upcoming school year (in which Harry planned to do exceedingly well), he wanted as little distractions as possible. And less importantly, Harry wanted to test the waters in the dating scene. Sirius' death had proven that life was indeed short, even from a wizard's point of view, and Harry wanted to make the most of it.

But the bomb that had been dropped on him weighed heavily on his mind. How could he date nice girls when there was a particularly cold one betrothed to him? Sure, Greengrass was pretty, but this meant nothing to Harry – in fact, he decided that Greengrass's beauty was the (for lack of better analogy) the frosting on a deceptively tasty poisonous cake.

For the second time that day, Harry was wrenched from his thoughts when he found that he had stumbled into someone. Faltering in his steps but catching the victim in the process, Harry hoisted the student up by the forearm. Blue eyes and red hair met green eyes and black, and Harry blinked in recognition.

"Ron? There you are!" Harry said, hoping that the redhead hadn't noticed him and Greengrass entering the compartment for their talk, but Harry's friend was not fooled so easily.

"Harry? Blimey, what happened to you? Where were you last month? And why were you with a Slytherin? Come on, Hermione and I have been looking for you for the past ten minutes!"

Harry allowed himself to be dragged back up the hallway and into a compartment that contained several other people. Hermione looked up from her book and blinked at Harry as he sat down, taking a moment to recognize her friend. "Harry? Where have you been? The papers were raging about you running away! And what's happened to you?"

Harry snorted lightly as he accepted a hug from the bushy-haired girl. "Well, thanks. I can see that my new look is well-beloved by those I call friends."

Ron chuckled as Harry slapped one of the other members of the compartment, Neville, on the back. The formerly pudgy Gryffindor smiled nervously. Neville had also changed considerably over the summer; although his round face remained, Neville had lost what seemed to be a lot of weight. "How're you doing, Nev? You've grown over the summer, too? Why aren't the others raging over _your_ new look?"

Neville blushed and muttered a, "Thanks," as the Express began moving at a slow pace. Harry looked over at the corner to Ginny, who was sitting next to Hermione. The redhead had also grown tall and lanky, but now the girly-ness was slowly disappearing from her face, revealing a sharp nose and bright eyes. Hoping not to embarrass her, Harry gave her a side-hug, to which she accepted gratefully.

"How are all of you doing? What'd you do over break?" Harry asked, attempting to divert Ron's previous questions to themselves, but Ron was stubborn and not easily diverted.

"First let's start with you, mate! You disappeared for a month, and then appear here, with a slimy snake, not to mention your new looks! Where were you?" Ron cried, and Harry sighed internally.

"For the last month, I decided that I'd had enough of my relatives, and I went to Diagon Alley to see if I could switch my guardianship. The results are still pending, though. Anyway, I started to working out when I read in a book that your fitness directly influences your magic."

Hermione and Ron's jaws dropped open. The former cried, "Which book?" and the latter exclaimed, "You read?"

Ron's response sent a small twinge of anger up Harry's spine, but he chose to ignore it. "It's a Guide to Magical Theory, Hermione, I can lend it to you when we get to school. And Ron, I did read, because I intend to improve my grades this year. I'm dropping Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, and I'm taking up Arithmancy and Runes. I figure that I'm already a master at Muggle Studies, and my current two classes are next to useless. Hagrid's a decent teacher, but the creatures he brings in are not relevant to what we might actually have to deal with."

Hermione was ecstatic as the news, while Ron seemed slightly more sullen. "Can I borrow your notes, too, Hermione? I'm a bit behind, but I think I read enough about it this summer . . ."

Ron shivered and weakly tried to pull a joke. "Starting to sound like Hermione, mate."

There was silence, and Harry looked at him, his anger rising a tiny bit. "What's so bad about that?"

Ron blushed tomato red and stammered, "I – didn't mean -"

He was saved quickly by Hermione, who said, "It doesn't matter. Anyway, what did Ron say about you with a Slytherin?"

At this, Ron's anger rose. This was something he could lash out at Harry with for making him look like a jerk, and so said, "Yeah, Harry. What are you doing with a slimy Slytherin?"

Harry glared at him, and the tension in the room thickened. "Ron, don't generalize. Not all Slytherins are bad, just like not all Gryffindors are good."

Ron scoffed, not backing down. "Name one -"

"Peter Pettigrew." Harry replied immediately, coldness seeping into his voice. Ron shivered slightly, the tension thickening further. After what Harry felt to be a nice, threateningly long silence, he continued in the same tone, "And to answer your question, we discussed something -"

"What?"

"- that is none of your bloody business." Harry finished. Ron looked lost for a second, and looked to Hermione for help, but she, too, was glaring at him. Defeated, the redhead slumped back in his seat. Deciding to rub it in a little further, Harry continued, "In fact, I'll be back. I have to finished our discussion.

As Harry swept out, Ron sighed. "Wow, Harry's in a bad mood today. I wonder what set him of -"

Hermione sniffed and lifted her head. "Shut up, Ron."

"Wha -?"

"You're the one that provoked him. First, you insulted his intelligence, then you trash both of us, and then you challenge him again. Dammit, Ronald, it's none of your business to know who he talks to!"

"I'm his best mate -"

"Not for long!" Hermione snarled. "If you keep acting like this, you might as well leave now."

Ron opened his mouth, and then closed it, shocked at being shot down by his only female friend. With false defiance, the redheaded boy got up and stormed out the sliding door, heading the opposite way that Harry had gone.

Hermione kept her glare until she sighed. "I feel so bad . . ."

"Don't. He's been acting that way all summer ever since the money we won in the lottery got stolen. He's disappointed that he didn't get to go to the World Cup." Ginny defended her. Neville nodded.

"Give them time to cool down. They always make up in the end." Neville says, but Hermione shrugged, concerned.

"I suspect that this time will be different." She said quietly.

**OooOooO**

Harry froze outside of the compartment in which he had met up with the Slytherins. He had heard voices, and vaguely heard Daphne's voice say, "I'll be back, I'm going to the loo."

Acting quickly, Harry slid open the nearest door and slipped inside, and just in time. Daphne stepped out of the third to last compartment and passed Harry's hiding compartment. Sighing with relief, he turned and said to whomever was there, "Sorry about this, guys. I had to hide."

Still looking out the glass, he was spun around when a warm hand touched his. Turning, he found that the little girl he had helped was looking up at him and beaming. "Oh, hi Natalie! Having fun?"

"Absolutely!" she said. Turning on her two friends, she cried, "I told you it was Harry Potter!" as the other kids just stared at him in awe, causing Harry to internally groan.

"Sorry guys, I got to go. Have fun, Natalie, and Natalie's friends." Harry said, sliding the door back open and leaving the chorus of, "Bye, Harry!"

Harry then jogged down the hall and tried to open Daphne's compartment. It was locked, and the windows were dimmed. Harry slid out his wand and murmured, "_Alohomora._", and slid open the door quickly, finding that Greengrass's friend and a black guy were in deep discussion. Tracey was in the middle of saying, "- they're betrothed! -" when she found the subject of their conversation was standing there. Crossing his arms and amusing himself at the shocked look on their faces, Harry said, "Planning on keeping any secrets, Davis?" (Tracey blushed), "Alright, I need you guys to tell me about Greengrass. I have to know what I'm walking into."

The black guy quickly got up and sat next to Davis as Harry sat down across from them. Tracey hesitantly began by saying, "Well – shouldn't we ask her first?", and to that Harry snorted.

"No thanks. I bet you 10 galleons that she's asked about me, and that you've given her all that you had on me. Now, please level out the playing field and enlighten me."

Tracey breathed out slowly, and said at top-speed, "Daphne's really secretive, and we're her only friends that she confides in. She comes from a wealthy pure-blood family, but she doesn't like it when people talk about her, she gets suspicious. When she's in public, she acts like what you saw, but when she's alone with us, she's gentler, but still just as smart. Don't underestimate her. She's a wonder at Potions, and is almost as good as -" (she shivers) "- Granger in all the other classes. She dated her first boy last year, but they broke up because Boot was a wimp when it finally came to going on dates. When she's alone in her room, she likes to -"

Harry held up his hands. "Don't say anymore, Davis. I'm surprised and a little disappointed that you'd give away your friend's life like that. And let me tell you now, that I have no interest in knowing about her bedroom habits, thank you very much."

Tracey smiled weakly. "Sorry, I ramble. But I, too, am a little surprised and disappointed that you don't want to know Daphne's bedroom habits. She needs a good snog fest, and so do you."

Harry snorts and says, "You don't know anything about me, Davis."

"Oh, you want to bet, Potter?"

At that moment, the door slid open, revealing a suspicious Daphne. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes as Daphne sat down next to Tracey. "Oh, nothing. Davis here was just about to tell me what you do alone in the bedroom."

Daphne hissed in anger and turned on Tracey, who threw her hands up in the air. "I was just kidding! I was gonna end the joke by saying something like, 'she reads'. Don't freeze me to death, O Ice Queen!"

Daphne relaxed a bit, and Harry laughed. "You gave ground much to quickly for a Slytherin, Davis. I am both surprised and disappointed that you don't live up to your house name."

Tracey shrugs while Daphne bristles. "You just as bad as Weasley, Potter? Going to assume all of us evil and Gryffindors are all goody-two-shoes, eh?"

Harry looks off out the window for a moment. The landscape of northern Scotland was lush and green, with trees growing along the rolling hills of grass. Harry murmured, half to himself, "No. I made that mistake last year, and it won't happen again."

There was silence as the three Slytherins tried to figure out what the boy meant.

After several moments, Harry looked back and pierced Daphne with his bright green eyes. "Greengrass, meet me in front of the statue of Gregory the Swarmy, on the fifth floor corridor, tomorrow night at around 6 o'clock, two hours before curfew."

Tracey wolf-whistled. "Already wanting to get to the snogging? I thought we discussed this!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Says the person who will most likely try to convince her to snog me."

To that, Tracey had to agree, and so their second conversation ended with Harry leaving the compartment, seeking refuge away from the Slytherins and Gryffindors alike and deciding to sit with his new first year friend instead.

**OooOooO**

Night had fallen when the train came to an abrupt stop. All members of the compartment were jolted in their seats, and Harry grinned when one of the girls rubbed their head in pain. They had all gotten dressed several minutes earlier (in turns, of course), and the First Years were dressed in the traditional Hogwarts robes with a gray tie and an empty emblem on their chest, while Harry had his newly fitted black, red and gold robes on.

The moon shown in through the window and sent rays of white light through the nervous-looking First Years. Harry patted Natalie on the head assuringly.

"Don't be scared, Natalie. To get Sorted, you just have to put on a Hat and it tells you what House you'll be in." Harry said gently, and the other students sagged in relief.

"Some twins told us earlier that we'd have to fight a troll to be in Gryffindor." Natalie said, breathing out. Harry snorted.

"Those are the Weasley twins. Don't talk to them too long, or you'll get a headache. Also, don't anger them. They're the supreme pranksters of the school, but they're nice to those who are nice to them."

Five minutes later, Harry stepped outside of the train, free of the First Years. Breathing in what was finally not stuffy, hot air, Harry scanned the supposedly self-pulled carriages. Seeing one that was not all the way full (and didn't have a particular redheaded Gryffindor on it), Harry jogged up and found the three students upon it watching him, openmouthed. That is, two of them; the other, a blonde girl in the year below Harry's, simply kept reading a newspaper that was upside down and murmured, "Hello, un-bespectacled boy." Pretending not to be unnerved, Harry smiled at them, and said, "Hey, girls. Is there any room?"

The two girls (twins) quickly assured him that there was much space left and that they would be very happy if he sat with them, and Harry obliged. The twins looked Indian, and Harry greeted them formally by taking their hands and pressing his lips against their knuckles. Wary of the blonde, Harry said, "Hello. Of course, I know Parvarti and Padma Patil, two of the most beautiful girls in our year, but I haven't met you. What's your name?"

The blonde girl put down her newspaper slowly and smiled. She had massive pink and purple glasses on, and her magnified eyes behind them looked big and distant. "Luna Lovegood, or as some people call me, Looney."

Harry frowned, and the girl smiled at him more. "It's quite alright, you don't have to say anything. I can tell what you would have. You know, Harry, you have much less Nargles than you did last year. What happened?"

One Patil twins, Parvarti, (on the verge of drooling) said almost dreamily, "Yeah, what happened? I'd like some."

Her sister giggled and nudged her as Parvarti blushed furiously. They both had matured at what seemed to be exactly the same rate, and they were both extremely cute. But (to Harry's frustration), neither of them held a candle to the icy beauty of a certain Slytherin. Thinking this, Harry mentally slapped himself. He would not be happy about the contract, if it was the death of him.

Brushing away his insecurities, Harry explained what he had done over the summer, obviously leaving out any major details concerning a certain contract. When he talked about his morning runs, Padma blurted if she could come and watch him. Blushing as furiously as her sister, she slapped her hands over her mouth, and Harry laughed.

"You may, but I get up at seven. If you think I'm -" (Harry flipped his hair jokingly, and the twins laughed) "- worth it, you're welcome to watch."

Parvarti nodded knowingly. "It's alright, Padma and I are used to getting up early, especially in the summer to do yoga stretches."

Less than appropriate thoughts flashed through Harry's mind, but he quickly brushed the perverted ideas away. "Well, I'd be happy to have you. You can even run with me if you want."

The twins squealed at this, and the four continued to talk in peasant conversation until the carriages stopped and they hopped off the carriages and onto the ground in front of Hogwarts. As always, it was large and looming, and though not 'grim', it definitely had a serious or solemn feeling about it. Torches lit up the turrets like beacons and the hundreds of window flashed and moved with activity. 'Home sweet home,' Harry thought. 'What a nice place to finish my list.'

**OooOooO**

Cold feelings towards Ron were especially visible when Harry was seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. To his right was Neville, and to his left was Hermione, and to her left was Ron, but Hermione (bless the girl) was doing her best to speak as little as possible to said boy.

When he had first walked in, Harry had immediately been pierced by the Headmaster's cool blue gaze. When Harry looked back at him, the old man seemed to sag with relief, and Harry snorted. Most likely he'd want to speak with him before he went to bed, which was fine with Harry. He had several things to say to the Supreme Mugwump.

But the Headmaster wasn't the only one staring at the Boy-Who-Lived. To his disgust, almost half the student population whipped around in their seats to see the lost (and returned) Savior. After gaping and pointing, they began whispering. Harry didn't want anything to do with whatever they were saying.

The Sorting went by rather quickly (Harry was determined to remember the look on Natalie's face when the Hat had cried, "Gryffindor!"), and when the food had appeared, Harry's disgust for his ex-best mate increased when Ronald dug in like a starved piglet. This increased Harry's hate, too, as he thought to himself, 'You don't know the meaning of starved, you pampered brat.' Harry had then separated himself from the fatty foods and gone for the ones rich in protein and nutrients. And instead of pumpkin juice, he found a cup of milk sitting on his placemat, and Harry silently thanked Dobby for his loyalty. Unfortunately, his appetite was ruined when he saw bits of chocolate fly from Ronald's full mouth as he talked to Dean across from him.

When they had finished their feast (Ronald had stashed several extra treacle tarts in his robes), Dumbledore stood up and did what seemed like an X-Ray scan on all the students.

"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must ask for your attention while I give a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has, this year, been extended to include Screaming yo-yo's, fanged frisbees and Ever Bashing Boomerangs. The full list compromises some four hundred and thirty seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it." (the Weasley twins whooped with laughter and the said caretaker glared murderously at them)

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest is out of bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all those below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." Outrage spread and it took several minutes to quiet everyone down. As he waited, Harry noticed that Dumbledore popped something red and werewolf-shaped into his mouth and sucking on it with saggy cheeks. When things had quieted, Dumbledore stored the candy in one of his cheeks and continued,

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

Suddenly, the animated night sky above everyone's heads flashed gray, and lightning flashed through the Hall. As students screamed, there was a ball of red light that flew up into the ceiling, causing it to suddenly stop and look again like the night sky. Everyone followed the path of the spell to a scar-covered man with a massive fake eye, stomping up to the Head's table with a wooden leg. Dumbledore too this into step ("May I introduce our new DADA teacher, Professor Moody."), and continued with his previous train of thought.

"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, and event which has not been held for over a century. It is my great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

As chaos erupted over the students, Harry lapsed into thought. Hopefully, this Tournament would not interfere with his schoolwork and general plan for the year. Having read about the Tournament, Harry continued to be distant until he was jolted back into the waking world by Hermione. Dumbledore was still going -

"- and the other schools will be arriving in two day's time. Please represent our school in a courteous way."

Having finished his horridly long speech, Dumbledore ordered them all to their respective common rooms, but Harry broke off from the rest of the Gryffindors halfway to their dorms to go and meet with Dumbledore. As he walked through the long stone halls, Harry felt at peace for a moment, and his mind lapsed into a deep train of thought. As a result, he almost ran into his Head of House when he turned a corner, and McGonagall looked at him (having grown, Harry was now level with McGonagall, and so didn't feel as vulnerable under her gaze) in suspicion. "Mr. Potter, what are you doing? You should be back in the common rooms; I was just on my way to give the First Years the speech!"

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall." Harry said respectfully. "I was just headed to the Headmaster's office to have a nice long chat with him."

McGonagall nodded in understanding after several seconds. "Good idea, Mr. Potter. He's been rather moody lately, and reminded me to tell you that he'd want to see you in his office tomorrow. Good luck. I trust you can find your way back?"

Harry smirked, remembering his first Transfiguration class. "Yes, Professor McGonagall. You don't need to turn me into a map to do so."

McGonagall smiled. "Good boy."

And with that, she walked off, and Harry soon found himself in front of the Headmaster's gargoyle. After thinking through possible passwords, Harry remembered the Feast, and confidently said, "Werewolf Watermelon Drops."

The gargoyle seemed to smile as it turned, revealing the staircase to the old man's office. Stepping up the staircase, and knocking on the large wooden door, Harry contemplated what he would say. He never finished this thought, however, for Dumbledore's voice said, "Come in." and Harry obliged.

Walking in confidently and ignoring the random bits and bobs twirling and twisting on the desk in front of Dumbledore, who was in turn in front of a semi circular bookcase that extended up 15 feet. Fawkes the Phoenix squawked in greeting, while Dumbledore sighed. "Ah! Harry, thank Merlin. Where were you, m'boy? Care for a lemon drop?"

Harry sat down in the large fluffy chair facing the Headmaster and said coolly, "I've been in Diagon Alley at the Leaky Cauldron. And no thanks, I don't want to risk getting spiked with Truth Potion and/or Calming Draught."

Dumbledore was shocked, to say the least. Where had the little boy, a nervous wreck, gone? Who was this confident, handsome young man in front of him?

"I'm shocked that you'd think I'd do something like that, Harry." Dumbledore sighed. "Why did you go, and how did you get there? I was worried about you."

Harry snorted at the last comment. "Well, you don't know me very well. I went because I'd had enough of my relatives, and they'd had enough of me. I used the Knight Bus to get there, just like last year."

Dumbledore processed this information. "Harry, m'boy, you could have brought your concerns to me. Also, what did you do there? What potions did you take to get like this, and what motivated you to do so?"

Harry snorted again Dumbledore's questionnaire way of speaking. "Yeah bloody right. You wouldn't have done anything about my situation. While I was there, I did some exercise and ate right for a change. I did it because I'd purchased a book that so helpfully stated that your fitness influenced your magic, which would be helpful to teach us students, by the way. Speaking of what I did in the Alley, I went to Gringotts and read my parent's and Sirius' Wills, and found something very interesting. Tell me, old man, when were you planning on informing me that I was bound in a marriage contract?" Harry's voice rose near the end, emphasizing the last two words. Dumbledore winced at the tone.

"I was waiting for the appropriate time -"

"Appropriate time? The Wills clearly said that I was to be informed by the beginning of the school year!" Harry shouted.

"I didn't feel that you were ready Just for context, how did you find out?"

"Don't draw it away from this, Dumbledore. You and I both know that this is more serious than anything else right now. It was Greengrass, by the way."

"Greengrass? Why are you two not on first-name basis yet? I'd thought when we wrote the contract that -"

Harry spluttered in rage, and threw at him, "You wrote that bloody contract?"

Dumbledore paled, but nodded. "Yes, m'boy. The Greengrasses needed a way to tell everyone that they were indeed part of the Light, and no longer neutral. They wanted to be trusted in the Wizengamot again -"

Harry shook his head and breathed heavily. "Don't feed me lies, Dumbledore. The Wizengamot are filled with idiots and heads of idiot families. They'll trust anyone as long as they're in the inner circle. So can you tell me the real reason of why the bloody contract exists?"

Dumbledore didn't open his mouth, and Harry huffed in rage. "Well, then, I refuse to answer and questions you ask me until you tell me the real reason of why that bloody contract exists."

Dumbledore tried to appeal to him, "Harry, don't be so immature. Please understand that I have other responsibilities -"

"Shut it, old man. I repeat my earlier statement and wish you a good night, and a prosperous year."

With that, Harry stormed out of the room, muttering under his breath about contracts, old men, lies, how stubborn Gryffindors were, and how unfair everything was.

***Please look up the touching story of Natalie McDonald.**


	3. Part One: Chapter Three

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

Chapter 3: The Scouts and Tryouts

Stepping up to the large painting of the Fat Lady, Harry sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Lady, but I wasn't here when they told us the password, and I'm in a very bad mood right now, and if you don't let me in I'll really regret hexing your portrait."

The Fat Lady looked on at him indignantly. "Mr. Potter, I -"

Harry looked up and glared, and she sighed. "I've seen that look before. Took them forever to get the color out of the frame . . ." and (after looking left and right) she swung open, revealing the warm and comforting room that he loved.

It was big, with red walls and gold, brown, and rusty carpets. Massive fluffy chair were in a semi-circle in front of the fireplace, and a large study table was in the corner, with wooden chairs in front of it. On the opposite side of the room was a stairwell that split into two branches, towards the girls' and boys' dormitories.

Sadly, it wasn't past curfew, and there were still around a dozen students out of bed, one of which was Ron. Harry paused for a second, shifting uncomfortably when all eyes turned on him. He was about to move on to his dormitory when Ron decided to call himself out. He was sitting at a chair in front of the fire, and Hermione was sitting in the chair next to him, but was obviously trying to ignore him.

"Well, Potter? Where were you? Kissing a teacher's arse?" Ron asked venomously. Fred and George (who in a corner, talking tot Angelina and Katie, looked sharply at him, but Harry silenced them with a glare before they could reprimand their brother. Tilting his head back slightly, Harry drawled, "Actually, it was Dumbledore's arse. And that's more action that you've gotten, Ronald."

The occupants in the room chuckled, and Ron turned red. "Shut up, Potter."

"I didn't start it, twat. But I'm surprised you were able to form words around all that food you stuffed in your mouth." Harry snorted, and it was true. Ron was, in fact, still eating the Treacle Tarts he had stashed in his robes. To add to the effect, Ron's fingers were sticky with the sweet. Ron glared at him, and abruptly changed the subject to another way he could exploit Harry.

"I expect you'll try to enter the tournament, then. But you don't have to, do you? Got money spilling from your arse." Ron shot at him. Harry rolled his eyes, expecting the weak argument.

"That's called shit, Ronald. It may look like bronze, but it's not a Knut, I assure you." Harry sighed, as though speaking with a child. The room laughed, and Ron reddened, ever closer to attacking Harry. "And no, I don't want to enter the tournament. I've got enough stuff on my mind. I've decided not to be an idiot anymore, and take my studies seriously. Not just food."

Ron stood up and brandished his fists (Fred and George did as well). "Since you're always complaining about being raised by Muggles, Potter, we might as well fight the Muggle way!" Ron snarled, raising his sticky fists. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ronald, I've never complained, and you're as about as thick as a wand. Even if you were to attack me, your twin brothers would stop your stupid arse."

Ron hissed, "Why you -" and he lunged at his ex-best mate. Before he had taken two steps, his twin brothers had grabbed his arms and hauled him back into the chair. Harry walked over and knelt so that he was at the same height as the sitting redhead, and spoke quietly.

"Listen, you prat. I am taking no shit from Snape, Dumbledore, Malfoy, or your jealous arse any more. You have one chance to apologize; and not to me, to Hermione. I love her like a sister, but you obviously don't. So if you want to have at least one chance with any bird, much less one of the prettiest and smartest, you better change your goddamn attitude, or to stay the bloody hell away from me. I expect an apology to your only female friend by tomorrow."

Harry walked briskly past him and jogged up the stairs, into the boy's dormitory. After a minute's silence, Katie Bell smacked her own head. "Damn! I forgot to tell him about the inter-school Quidditch tournament! Tryouts are tomorrow!"

Angelina patted her shoulder, and then Parvarti Patil piped up. "Oh! You can tell him tomorrow morning! He's getting up early to do a run, and he says that anyone can come along, if they want."

Subconsciously, everyone thought about their own physical form and compared it to Harry's. Katie Bell sighed. "Not saying that anyone should pull Harry into a broom cupboard, but Harry has grown into a fine specimen of perfect boy this year."

As the girls nodded their agreement, Ron snarled and pushed his brothers' hands off of his shoulders. He left, grumbling something about, "Potter gets everything, even the birds,"

Angelina then said, "I have to start picking the team this year; I can't believe I was picked to be Captain! And since Alicia's arm is broken and won't heal in time, she can't be on it."

Katie smiled and calmed her down. "It's okay, I'll help, Ann. Fred, George, get your arses over here."

The twins hurried over to them, and Angelina went into a long speech.

"Alright, for the chasers, Katie and I are a given. Problem is, even though Gryffindor is by far the best, we have to include all the other houses at least once. Since Alicia's gone, we can slip in a different person – as much as I loath to say it, Marcus Flint is the next best, after Alicia, but we'll see at the tryouts. For beaters, I think it's Fred and George by a long shot. For keeper, Herbert Fleet is the best since Oli is gone. He's really spectacular. As for seeker, we'll see if Harry wants to play. If he does, he makes it on, automatically. If not, Diggory and Chang are the next best."

Fred and George stared at her for a second, and then shook their heads. "Sorry, but -"

" - we only listened -"

" - when you said -"

" - Gred and Forge."

Angelina snorted while Katie Bell rolled her eyes. "We'll talk to Harry in the morning. Who knows? Maybe he won't want to be Seeker this year?"

They laughed at that, and Padma cut in, "Harry'll be up at seven, he said. I'm going with him, with my sister. You can only do yoga so many times, right?"

They chuckled and agreed, while Seamus, on the other side of the room, drooled at the thought of the female twins doing yoga.

**OooOooO**

Harry yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he reached his toes. He had slept shirtless with his jogging pants on, and quickly used a cleaning spell on them to get rid of the smell. He did the same with his other, less visible pieces of clothing, and pulled on a tight sleeveless t-shirt. He then grabbed his favorite beanie hat that he had gotten custom made from Madam Malkins. It was black with a green stripe on it. Though plain, Harry had grown to like it, as it covered his messy hair, and kept his ears warm. He liked his ears warm.

He left the boy's dorm quietly, as to not wake anyone up. Stepping into the bright common room, he looked out the window at the already shining sun. From the schedule Harry had learned, the sun normally rose at 6:30, which meant he wouldn't have to worry about bumping into anything.

"Are you ready?" said a voice behind him. Harry turned and grinned at Parvarti.

"You got up? Good job. Most of the boys can't get out of their beds by half past seven."

Parvarti laughed. "So, what's the destination -"

Before she could finish, Katie and Angelina rushed down the stairs. "Wait up!" Katie said. "We're coming, too. We figure that this'll help with Quidditch. It'll help increase our stamina, and it'll be a warm up for the try-outs tonight."

Harry nodded. But, looking thoughtful, he said, "This is good for Chasers. Honestly, I don't recommend Seekers to run like this. I figured out that though my reflexes are faster, I am slightly slower in the air, and I'm a bit more clumsy. So this year, I've decided to go for Chaser."

Gesturing them to come along, Harry led them out of the common room and out into the hall, where he began running at a light jog as Katie and Angelina looked shocked.

"Are you serious, Harry?" Katie asked. "You aren't going to be Seeker?"

Harry shrugged. "Nah. I'm not as good as I was last year, but Cedric is in excellent form, I've heard. And Cho would be a good substitute. As for a reserve team, Ginny would be perfect as Chaser."

Angelina looked confused. "Reserve team?"

Harry led them up several stairs. "Yeah. You know, for the people who didn't make it onto the first team. They can sub in if anyone gets hurt."

Katie blinked. "That's an amazing idea, Harry! We can give some younger students a try, and pit them against the weaker school, Beauxbatons."

Harry nodded as he stopped in front of a large wooden door, with a small knocker on the front. Reaching up and letting the girls catch their breath, he beat the knocker against the door, and the knocker animated, and said,

"If you have me, you want to share me, if you share me, you haven't got me. What am I?"

Harry suddenly blurted, "A pretty girl." The eagle knocker roared with laughter, and Katie and Angelina giggled, while Parvarti smirked and smacked Harry on the back of the head.

"'Tis true, ladies." Harry grumbled good-naturedly before looking back at the riddle. After a second, Harry smacked his head. "Oh! Damn, it's a secret. I'm an idiot."

The knocker laughed and told him to come again next time as it swung open. Harry did get inside, however, because there was already at least a dozen people there. They all looked up in shock. Padma suddenly appeared next to the door.

"Ah! Harry! Parvarti! I was just coming out! How'd you get the door open?" Padma said cheerily, hopping out. Harry was confused. "Why is everyone awake already?"

"Oh, we get up to study collectively every few days. Anyway, how'd you get in?" Padma asked, standing next to her sister. The Ravenclaws inside watched him warily as Harry closed the door. "I guessed the riddle correctly."

Padma blinked. "Oh."

Harry clutched his heart as the door closed. "I am hurt that you are shocked that I got a question right."

Padma chuckled and greeted the two other Gryffindors. Harry turned around. "Alright. Let's go. We're going around the lake twice."

Soon, they had jogged their way outside, into the cool morning air. The sky was gray with heavy clouds, but the sun peaked through holes. Harry breathed in deeply and sighed. "I love this weather."

The girls agreed, and soon they were running around the lake. Along they way, Harry gave them pointers, like to keep their elbows tucked in and their arms at their sides. Although Harry did notice that Padma and Parvarti looked extremely inviting, as they were wearing their yoga pants. Harry was thankful that he was in front of them, or he would surely make a fool of himself. Katie and Angelina were wearing what they normally wore under their Quidditch robes; skinny jogging pants, and all four of the girls were wearing loose tank-tops. After the twenty minutes of running, Harry congratulated them on jogging almost two miles, and then told them that it was time to go to the Great Hall. As there was no rule that you had to wear robes to breakfast, and only to classes and in between them, Harry decided that he could change after breakfast and before their first class, and the girls agreed.

When they reached the Great Hall, Harry found that it was already full of students, who had just woken up. Harry cast cleaning charms on his group and himself, and found that all the students were watching them, and he started walking down to the Hall, and several students began to lose interest in the arrivals. However, they stared again when Katie and Angelina kissed Harry on each cheek, and said, "Thanks, Harry. Fancy a run again tomorrow?"

Harry just nodded stupidly as the girls giggled and went to their respective spots next to their friends. Padma also kissed him on the cheek, and Harry sighed. "Please, no more! Are you trying to turn me red?" He cried, pretending to be distressed. Padma laughed and went to her own table. Harry smiled at Parvarti and gestured across from himself, where she sat. Lavender Brown quickly sat next to her and bombarded her with questions, while Harry sat next to Hermione across from them. Neville claimed his seat on his other side, and Ginny next to Neville. Neville wolf-whistled at Harry. "Harry, some action early in the year, mate? You're going straight in!"

People around him laughed, as did Harry. "I guess." Harry replied modestly. Grabbing some healthy breakfast, Harry looked across the Ravenclaw table to see Daphne Greengrass staring at him venomously. Harry shivered. The icy cold stare his betrothed gave him sent chills down his spine, but it was accompanied with a pleasurable sensation in his chest. What was wrong with him?

When they had finished, McGonagall went around, handing out schedules. Looking at it, Harry found that there was no Potions today; first double Charms, then DADA, and then Lunch. After that, they had the rest of the day free, due to the Quidditch tryouts. Harry smiled. Today would be very fun.

**OooOooO**

Harry stepped into the Charms classroom with Hermione, Parvarti, and Neville, and studied the new desk layout. The desks were in groups of three to a section, and Neville insisted that he could sit with Seamus and Dean. They walked in, and Neville did so. Harry sat with his two female friends. When Ron walked in, he gave Harry a look of pure loathing, and went to sit with Seamus and Dean, only to find that Neville had taken said seat. After glaring at him for a bit, Ron was forced to sit with a Hufflepuff.

Flitwick then walked into the classroom and squeaked, "Good morning, good morning, class! And welcome to your first class of the year! Today, we will be practicing the Summoning Charm. Does anyone know what it is?"

Hermione raised her hand immediately, wildly waving it in the air, and almost taking out Harry and the table. Flitwick smiled at her; he could always count on Granger to give a good answer. However, when she had raised her hand, Harry had grinned and put his hand, too, slowly into the air. Flitwick was surprised. Harry had almost never volunteered an answer in any of his class – but then again, even the teachers had noticed the change in the young Potter.

"The Summoning Charm is a charm that caused an object at a distance from the caster to fly into their arms. It was one of the oldest spells known to Wizarding society. It's incantation is '_Accio_', and its most famous use was by the Accionites and their leader, Gideon Flatworthy. This Charm cannot be used on buildings, nor most living things. Though most things produced in Wizarding shops in the 21st century are charmed as to not be able to be Summoned, as to avoid theft. The wand movement is simply an upwards curve, starting at your right shoulder, and ending in front of your left, all the while your arm fully extended."

Flitwick was shocked. "Excellent description, Mr. Potter! Do you think you could take a shot at it?"

Harry blinked. "Er – I guess." Flicking out his wand and pointing it at the chair (one which Flitwick never uses, as he stands on top of a stack of books to teach), and stated, "_Accio Filius' chair._" Flicking his wand perfectly, the chair flew up over his professor's desk and at Harry at top speed. Harry stood and caught the chair, which was slightly smaller than the average one.

Flitwick (for lack of better term) squealed. "Excellent job, Mr. Potter! That was the most powerful Summoning Charm I've ever seen a student do! What did you do differently than most?"

Harry blinked. "Er – I read that the more fit you are, the more released your magic is. So that's why I run and exercise and stuff. It helps me put finesse on my spells, but it also expands my capabilities concerning such magic."

Flitwick clapped. "Excellent demonstration, Mr. Potter! I'll discuss your explanation with your Head of House and see what she thinks about it."

Harry smiled and nodded his acceptance of the praise. The rest of class went uneventfully, and Harry was asked to walk around and help out those who needed it.

**OooOooO**

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the class Harry was most excited for. He was determined to learn as much as he could from the ex-Auror.

Moody was tall and thick, with teak, wavy blonde hair. Scars marred his face, and his massive, fake blue eye constantly whizzed about, looking at each of them, and lingering on Harry.

"The only reason I am here is because Dumbledore asked me to. End of story. Now, when it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. First! Which of you can tell me the three Unforgivable Curses."

"The Cruciatus." Neville blurted, his face reddened. Moody studied him.

"Yes – a Longbottom. Your parents were great people – great Aurors." After a moment of silence, Moody called on Hermione.

"The Imperious, sir." Hermione said. "It allows you complete control over the target."

Moody nodded. "Yes, the Ministry had some trouble with that one a couple years ago." After another silence, Harry raised his hand, and Moody looked on him. "Potter?"

"The Killing Curse." Harry said quietly. Moody nodded, watching Harry longer than normal.

"Now, the Unforgivable Curses are so name because . . .?"

"They are Unforgivable." Malfoy drawled from the back of the class. "They are the darkest form of magic possible – but Professor, I disagree."

Moody had a hint of a smile on his marred face. Inviting him to go on, Malfoy continued to drawl, "I think that there is no Dark or Light. After all, each of these curses can be used in a good way. The Imperius can be used to infiltrate enemy ranks, and the Cruciatus can be used to interrogate someone."

Harry grew angry. Obviously, these were words fed to Malfoy through his father, but they were just untrue. Malfoy Sr. just looked for excuses to execute such curses, and that made Harry even angrier.

The room shivered, and Moody laughed. "Can anyone provide a counter-argument?"

Harry raised his hand, and Moody nodded. "I agree with Malfoy; I don't believe there is Light or Dark magic."

The room gasped quietly, but Harry ignored it. "However, only one of those curses can truly only be used for something good thing. The Imperius can be used to control a drunk or suicidal person."

"What 'bout the others, Potter? A bit too close to home?" Malfoy sneered. Harry ignored him.

"However, the last two cannot be used for good in any way." Harry said firmly.

"Any justification, Potty? The Killing Curse can be used for someone in pain, wishing to be put out of their misery." Malfoy drawled inquired. Harry glared sharply back at him, with malice in his green gaze.

"The Killing and Cruciatus must be fueled by hate. You must really hate the person to be able to cast either of them. For example -"

Harry flicked his wand out, pointed it at Moody, and said calmly, "_Avada Kedavra_."

The class screamed, and desks were overturned, but Moody stood there with a massive smile on his face. Ronald had even lunged out of his desk and started to grab Harry, who pushed him off, and pointed his wand at him. Harry breathed heavily. "However, if I cast it on Weasley, I may get some reaction from the _ssspell_." The last word was hissed out, and Harry's Parseltongue crept in slightly. It wasn't enough for everyone to be aware, but it was enough for everyone to be reminded that Harry was a Parseltongue, and it sent shivers down their spines. Daphne, who sat in the back of the room, felt a strange sensation. It was a chill down her back, but a warmth that tingled in her chest. She shook it off as the class watched in horror, but Harry didn't do anything.

Moody let out a great barking laugh as Harry flicked his wand back into his holster. The students looked up and saw that their Professor was not dead, and they all began to calm down. Moody continued to laugh deeply. "Ha! – Mr. Potter! Ha! Ha! What a demonstration! Brilliant teaching skills. Ruddy brilliant."

Harry grabbed Ron by the collar of his robes and picked him up, and then pushed him back towards his own desk. Ron had a maniac gleam in his eye.

"You're going to Azkaban, Potter!" Ron snarled happily. "You cast the spell -"

"No I didn't, you idiot. I just said the words. After all, most people don't even call it the Killing Curse – they just refer to it as Avada Kedavra – and they don't get sent to jail, do they?"

Moody wiped tears of mirth out of his eye. "I think I like you, Potter. You got some heat. I like that."

**OooOooO**

For the rest of the class, the class were wary of Harry; even Parvarti and Hermione. They were both shocked, but both agreed that Harry had done nothing wrong. But as they left the class, Hermione said, "Harry, you have to control your temper. You really scared us back there – you sounded almost like a snake near the end."

Harry clenched his hands. "I know, and I'm sorry, 'Mione, but I'm not taking any crap from either Ronald or Mlafoy this year. They insult me, I burn them. They push me, I mortally wound them."

Parvarti giggled while Hermione sighed with a smirk on her face that she was trying to hold back. "Alright, Harry. Be careful next time. We don't want everyone thinking you're the next Dark Lord."

Harry shrugged, and they parted ways. Hermione and Parvarti went to go to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the try-outs after they ate, while Harry went to his dormitory to get on his Quidditch robes. When he had done so, he went to the Great Hall to eat a hurried lunch (it was nearly empty, since everyone had started to make their way to the Quidditch Pitch), and then went to the Pitch. Once there, he found about two dozen kids trying out for the team. Upon seeing Harry, Katie and Angelina went to him. The sun was bright, but the clouds covered it so that there wouldn't be any glare. In the stands were the Heads of Houses, about half the students, and a small group of wizards near the end of the stands. Harry wasn't sure who they were.

"Harry! Finally! You have to help us judge who's going on, since you were the best Seeker last year. Come on, we're testing them first."

So Harry watched as the aspiring young Seekers (around six of them in all, including Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Ginny Weasley, Malfoy, and a second year.) tried out for the team. Angelina released around ten snitches into the air for each person, and they had one minute to grab as many as possible. In the end, Ginny was picked to be the reserve, Cho Chang as one of the subs, and Cedric as the starter. Ginny was very good, but her broom was holding her back; if she had a Nimbus, she would fly as well as Cho, if not better (she made 6/10). Cho was very good as the initial flying, but failed to reach her top speed quick enough (she got 7/10). Cedric did very well in all aspects, and so made the team (he made 9/10). Malfoy failed the test, making only 3/10 catches. The second year did just as well as the Slytherin, who moaned and groaned about the selection being biased.

Next were beaters. The Weasleys and the two Slytherin beaters – Harry forgot their names – were tested next. Angelina released the two bludgers onto the pitch, and the two beaters would try to hit them into the hoops. The Weasleys made 16/20 (two each), and the Slytherins made 14/20.

There were only two Keepers trying out; Herbert Fleet, from Hufflepuff, and Grant Page, from Ravenclaw. For this, Angelina herself would try to score 10 times on them, and whoever saved more won. In the end, Grant Page won, for he saved 7/10, while Fleet saved 5/10.

Next were Chasers. Before they were sent out, Angelina stopped him and said, "Harry, do you really want to try it out?" Harry nodded firmly, and he zoomed out onto the pitch with his trusty Firebolt. The test was simple; Angelina would throw the Quaffle at the wannabe player, and he/she would try to score without going within 10 meters near the hoops, to make it fair. They would get 10 tries. Grant Page would be the Keeper for each one of them.

There were almost a dozen students trying out for Chaser, and 8 of them were quickly beat out, as they couldn't receive Angelina's expert, hard passes. The only people left was Harry, Katie, Roger Davies, captain of the Ravenclaw team, and Marcus Flint. Angeline used 'Sonorous' on her throat and called to everyone watching, "Alright, guys, there are only two spots available on the inter-house team. Do your best, and if you don't make it, be happy that you'll be either a sub or a part of the reserves." So the Chasers were called over to sit by her, so that there would be one at a time, and they could easily manage the scores.

Harry smirked as Katie was called up. Before she went out, Harry stood and gave her a hug. "Good luck, Katie." He said, and she smiled widely and pecked him on the cheek. Sitting back down, Angelina was watching him strangely, and Harry shrugged innocently. As Katie flew out to the center of the pitch, Harry asked Angelina, "Who are those people over there?"

Angelina peered over at them. "Hm? Oh, their – oh my Merlin -" She whispered.

"What." Harry said, nervous, and Angelina leaned in, "Those are scouts for the Quidditch international club teams. And the one in the front is the scout for the English National Team!"

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh."

But their attention was drawn away when Katie was ready. Angelina flew out to the pitch and threw the Quaffle, hard, at her friend. Katie was able to catch it, fly towards the hoops, and chuck it at the bottom right. However, the Ravenclaw Keeper expected it, and kicked it away. The next few throws went similarly, although Katie was able to make two. Thus they testing went on until she was on her final one; she had made an excellent 7/10, and Angelina threw her the ball. Katie was not ready for it, and when she reached at the last second, it bounced from her palm into her face, and she slid off, limp as a rag doll.

Angelina screamed, and took off after her, but her Cleansweep wasn't fast enough to reach for her, for the last throw was supposed to be thrown from long range. Harry immediately chucked his broom out in front of him and leapt off the stands, landing on the Firebolt. He zoomed towards the ground, under the falling Chaser, and several feet before hitting the ground, Harry leapt off his broom and broke Katie's fall with his arms, landing with an 'Oof!' on his stomach.

Harry groaned and got to his knees, lifting Katie in his arms to see if she was okay. She had a nasty bruise on her head, but that was it. Harry winced when he got to his feet, and Angelina landed next to him, in shock.

Harry winced. "Here, Anne – get my broom and put it under me. I'm going to fly up to Pomfrey."

Angeline just nodded and did so. Harry then tried to attempt a stance that some professionals did; he wrapped one of his legs around his broom normally, but with his other foot, he put on top of his broom, to steer the best he could. He used Katie's body as a counterweight, and slowly but surely floated up towards the teacher's stands.

When he reached them, the group of wizards – or the scouts – took Katie from him and placed her on a conjured mattress. Pomfrey was mumbling, "Damn sport – too dangerous for kids -"

Harry sighed when the weight was lifted from him and he leaned against the fence, breathing heavily. There was a sharp pain in his side, and he clenched it lightly.

One of the wizards went up to him. "Are you alright, son?"

Harry breathed out slowly and shrugged. "I think I might have cracked a rib."

The man nodded and took out his wand, pressing it lightly against Harry's stomach and murmuring a couple of words. "That was some good flying out there, son. Where do you play?"

Harry blinked as the pain suddenly vanished. "Er – thanks. Last year, I was a Seeker, but this year I'm trying for Chaser."

The man grinned and nodded. "We could tell. That was a Wronksi Feint if I ever saw one."

Harry smiled and shrugged. The man turned and gestured towards someone. He came over, and Harry found that he was a tall young man, with broad shoulders and cheery smile.

"Forgive me, son, I'm George Harde, and this is Keaton Flitney. He plays as Chaser for the ENQT." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry?"

"The English National Quidditch Team." Flitney clarified. "It's a pleasure to meet you. What's your name?"

Harry smiled and shook his hand firmly. "Harry Potter."

Flitney blinked. "Really?" while Harde's mouth dropped open. "How old are you, Harry?"

"14, sir." Harry said, and Harde grinned.

"Son, we're going to watch you try out, and if we think you do well, we'll get you a spot on our Under 17 squad."

Harry gaped. "Really? Thanks, sir!"

Harde laughed. "No, if this works, we'll be thanking you, son. If you make it now, when you turn 17, you'll be guaranteed a spot on the National team."

Harry smiled and laughed heartily. "Thanks so much!"

Harde grinned, too. "You don't have it yet, son. You still have to make it."

Harry was still smiling. "I'll try not to screw up. Anyway, if you're hear for the National team, then who are the other guys representing?"

"There're the Ballycastle Bats, the Chudley Cannons, Puddlmere United, the Vratsa Vultures, and the Holyhead Harpies here right now, but there'll be more when the actual inter-school matches start going."

Harry whistled. "Which one is Viktor Krum at? I'd love to play with him someday. His flying technique is flawless."

Flitney grinned at him. "You have a good eye for flying, kid. Right now, Krum is at the Vratsa Vultures. They're at the top of the league right now, but I heard that Krum is going out on a transfer soon, to either the Cannons or Puddlmere."

Harry whistled. "How many teams are there in all, in the league?"

Harde tilted his head. "Exactly forty. The teams here are currently in the top five in the league, but they've come here to start scouting some new talents."

They were about to continue talking when Angelina called to him, "Oi! Harry! You're up next!"

Harry looked apologetically at the scout, but quickly hopped on his broom and floated away.

When he reached Angelina, he asked, "How many did Flint get?"

"He got 7/10." She answered, and Harry whistled. "I'm ready. And Angelina -" Harry stopped her when she started to float away. "Don't hold back."

She smirked. "I wasn't planning to, Potter."

Harry grinned in response and went out to the middle of the field. The Gryffindors in the stands were cheering his name, and before she began, Angelina was confronted by Lee Jordan. He seemed to be begging something, and it looked like Angelina relented. Jordan ran up to the teacher's stands, grabbed his microphone, and turned it on.

"Ladies and gentledorks, the final tryout of the day will be Gryffindor's Harry Potter!" Cheers from the crowd. "The only reason I'm doing this for Harry is because, sadly, we don't believe that Katie will continue; please give a respectful round of applause for one of Gryffindor's best Chasers." The audience clapped respectfully.

Harry focused in on Angelina as she flew out, a sack of Quaffles tied to the end of her broom. Taking one out, Harry focused on only the Quaffle, and the hoop he intended it to pass through.

"Harry gets ready to receive the pass – Angelina draws her arm back, and hurtles at Harry – Harry catches, spins, and the ball flies through the far left hoop! In from bouncing off the bottom half of the circle! What a shot!"

Harry grins as it bounces upwards through the metal hoop, and it gives a satisfying hum. Jordan's commentary continues as Angelina flies from her spot upwards, and drops it almost from on top of him. Harry puts his broom under the falling ball, the ball pops up several feet, and Harry spins and smashed the Quaffle with the back of his broom. The ball hurtles past the Keeper's hands and into the middle post.

"That's two for Potter; he is on fire! Oi! Scouts! Did you see that! Yeah! Potter's a monster!" Jordan yelled to the scouts, who chuckled and resumed watching Harry.

Angelina throws another ball, and Harry catches this one in his palm, flies forward at full speed, and releases it, twisting his hand at the last second.

"Ah – this looks like the first miss for – NO! It curls its way around the Keeper and passes cleanly through the bottom right hoop! This is the best Chasing we've ever seen -"

Harry smirks to himself as Angelina proceeds with the next three, Harry making every one. On his sixth try, Angelina circles around one of the stands, and in, turning at the last minute, but sending a reverse pass towards Harry.

"That is some tricky play from Angelina , but no! Harry expects it and throws it, full power! The Keeper got a touch in, but it only deflected in – Grant Page is putting up an excellent fight."

And for the next three, Harry continues to beat the Keeper until Angelina reaches for the last Quaffle.

"Harry Potter has already secured himself a place on the team, beating Marcus Flint's score already – but if he makes this shot, he is surely one of the best ever at this school."

Angelina gets out the last Quaffle and flies underneath Harry. Jordan's voice gets higher with excitement. "And now it looks like Angelina is going to copy an in-game play called the Reverse Porskoff Plow, in which a Chaser flies down and throws upwards to the Chaser above."

Harry looks down at Angelina, and she throws it upwards towards him. When she does, Harry catches it between his feet, flips over, flicking the ball above him, rights himself, catches it, and tosses the ball into the air.

"What's Harry going to do – amazing footwork from Harry, flicks it up, throws into the air, and - I DON't BELIEVE IT! HE'S GOING FOR THE DIONYSUS DIVE!"

And so he was; as the ball comes back down to him, Harry stands on his broom, and leaps forward into open air, punching the Quaffle as hard as he can towards the hoops. The Keeper, not expecting it at all, goes to block it, but is too late – it's already past his hands -

"HARRY IS CAUGHT BY ANGELINA – PAGE REACHES FOR IT – NO! It bounces off the circle, hitting him in the back – AND IT GOES IN! HARRY POTTER GETS 10/10 IN THE INTER-HOUSE TRYOUTS!"

Harry sighs with relief when the Quaffle bounces off Page's back and into the hoop. Looking around, he found that he was just behind Angelina, on her broom. He smiles and murmurs in her ear, "I guess that you can say that I've – fallen for you."

Angelina chuckles, and steers him down towards the grass, where the Gryffindors began hugging him and cheering for him. Floating above the crowd, Anglina turns and kisses him on the lips. Harry is shocked, but kisses back. It isn't a snog, just a closed mouth kiss that lasted about 10 seconds, but Harry decided that it was the best first kiss a guy could have. Whilst doing so, she pushed him backwards, off the broom, and into the hands of the crowd.

Little did he know, a certain Slytherin girl was glaring murderously at them, planning what she would do to her betrothed.

Harry let himself be dropped down to the ground, landing on his feet among his fellow Gryffindors. The fiasco in DADA all but forgotten, he was congratulated on making the team and winning the bird. Harry blushed when they mentioned the latter.

Suddenly, the cheering mass of kids was split open by a grinning George Harde. Going up next to Harry and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "My boy, that was the best Chasing I've seen in a long time, and you're not even 15! So let me offer you a proposition, son: I'll get you onto the Under 17 squad. The adult World Cup was this summer, but the Under 17 is actually going on right now, but England hasn't had a qualifying match. So, what do you say?"

Harry was speechless, and the Gryffindors all cheered him on, telling him to take the offer. Harry was still speechless, and Harde laughed and slapped his shoulder. "If it's wages you're worried about, the Under 17 squad gets around 500 galleons per month."

Harry's mouth dropped even wider. The students around him laughed, and then Angelina landed her broom next to him and stood next to Harry, grabbing his hand. Harde smiled at her. "You were very good too, Angelina, was it? I was going to talk to you afterwords; from what I've seen, you could easily make it onto the reserve squad for the adult's World Cup; since you missed it, you can wait until next year; if you improve enough, you can make it onto the subs, too. Are you Harry's girlfriend?"

Harry lost all of his cool and stammered, "Erm – well -"

Angelina rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand. "Yes."

Harde chuckled. "So, do you agree? 500 galleons a month? We have practices once a week, and the first match is actually this weekend. If you want to participate as a sub in it, you can come to the practice tomorrow and see what it's like. But, as of now, I am hiring you to be on the squad. We'll get all of the contract jazz done in the castle later today, if you like. What do you say?"

Harry found his voice. "That is the best thing I've ever heard. I accept – thank you so much."

Harde grinned. "I know. Of course you did. Once you've finished celebrating with your friends, I'll meet you in the castle's Dining Hall for you to sign the contract. Meanwhile, I'll be talking to your head of house. Capisce?"

Harry grinned and nodded, and Harde slapped his shoulder. "See you soon, kid."

As the scout left, Harry turned to Angelina and thanked her. "Thanks for covering for me back there."

Angelina smirked. "That wasn't the only reason I kissed you, Potter." With that, she pulled him in for another kiss, to the sighs of the crowd, and the jealous glances of many girls and boys alike.

"Come on. I think that there's a very nice broom closet – I mean, common room that we can celebrate in." The crowd chuckled as Harry and Angeline walked, hand in hand towards the castle.

As they walked towards the castle, Harry couldn't help but feel elated, but saddened that he was going to miss this. Sure, this was great fun, but there wouldn't be any lasting relationship to come, considering Harry's position with Daphne. But Harry decided that Angelina didn't expect this to last either; most likely, she'll just want this to be a little fun that would last a half a year.

Saying the password for him, Angelina led him inside the common room and into the corner to the left of the door portrait. This was the corner where couples would often go to have a good snog; there were red curtains around a booth with a table in front of it. It was supposed to be used for 'private studying', but the students found that there were many other more . . . recreational uses to be had from it.

Pulling him in, her lips locked with his as they sat down on the seat next to each other, and someone closed the curtains behind them. After a good minute of this, Harry broke off. "Er – Angelina, not to be rude, but why are you doing this?" He inquired quietly.

Angelina smiled at him. "Several reasons. One: you're hot now. Two: You're going to be a Quidditch star. Three: you're a really nice guy. Four: You saved my friend from an untimely demise. Is that enough for you?"

Harry grinned. "I guess, but I don't expect this to last. After all, Fred has a crush on you, and I have some shit going on that really sucks."

Angelina smiled again, and laughed a bit. "I like Fred too, but I'm going to wait until I leave Hogwarts to get to know him better. And let me guess; the shit that's going on is a marriage contract."

Harry blinked. "How did you know?"

Angelina laughed. "I didn't, but now I do. I assumed that because you're the only male child in a powerful male line. I won't ask who it is, since you'll probably only come out when you want to. But let's just try to make this work for the time being, okay, Harry? At least halfway into the year. Plus -" She went in for another kiss. "I can teach you some things. If you're contracted to someone, I expect that it's a pureblood, and she'll have high expectations of you. So I'll coach you in kissing and some other stuff."

Seeing her waggle her eyebrows, Harry shifted uncomfortably, causing her to laugh. "It's okay, Angelina – I know all about parking the hot rod in the garage."

Angelina let out a louder laugh. "Is that what you call it? That's cute, but don't worry; I won't come down on you like that. I'm going to wait until I'm older."

Harry grinned and agreed. "I don't want any annoying little shits running around calling me daddy."

Angelina laughed again and pulled him in for another kiss. After several minutes of this, Harry pulled apart and said, "Any tips, Professor Smooch?"

Angelina grinned and pecked him again. "Open your mouth more. I can't force your mouth open with my tongue. Also, tilt your head more, or I'll get a crick in my neck. Also, even though some girls like it, don't run your fingers in my hair. I might do that to you, but that's because your hair always looks like pile of shit. You can keep your hands on my hips instead. Other than that, you're on the road to being very good at this."

Harry grinned and pecked her again. Angelina smiled and scooted her butt towards Harry. "Come one, Potter. Let's make you a Quidditch star."

**OooOooO**

It was supper, anyway, and when Angelina and Harry reached the Great Hall, almost half the students were there already. When Harry had asked, Angelina had decided that they should make their relationship known, so that it wouldn't be as awkward when they were caught in broom closets. Which, Angelina had said, would happen often, if she had any say in it.

Thus, they held hands as they walked into the Great Hall. The tables were covered in food, and Harry noticed that there were several extra chairs at the staff table. In one, to the left of McGonagall, was George Harde, and to the left of her were two different wizards wearing different color robes; one of them blue and the other bright orange. Harry smiled and waved up at Harde, who grinned and waved back, before continuing his conversation with McGonagall. In fact, they were having a four-way discussion, including the new wizards.

Harry sat at the table next to Hermione, Angelina at his side. Across the table was Neville and Ginny as usual, and a little was down was Ron, who thankfully hadn't said much during the day. Across from Angelina, one of her friends, Patricia Stimpson, sat down and greeted Angelina. Next to Angelina came George, and across her came Fred.

"Well, Harry. Looks like you got a very nice bird, indeed." Neville mused across the table. He had become very confident in the past day, and Harry wondered why. His thoughts were answered when Ginny smacked his shoulder, but then rested her hand on Neville's.

"Look who's talking, Nev." Harry smirked, Ginny and Neville reddening.

"Congrats, you two." Angelina chuckled. "Treat him nice, Ginny, or he'll stick one of his plants up your arse."

Harry chuckled and added, "Except it won't be a plant." The girls and boys in Angelina's year laughed at this, while the new couple looked utterly lost. Hermione obviously understood, but covered her mouth at the last minute, but couldn't overcome the smirk that reached her eyes.

Once they had finished eating, Hermione excused herself to go study, and Neville and Ginny followed her, not wanting to interrupt anything between Angelina and Harry. When they had left, the food magically disappeared and Fred and George moved to the other side of the table, across from Angelina and Harry, to discuss what had happened.

"Congrats, mate!" Fred said.

"We can't believe -" George continued.

"- that our ickle Harry -" Fred went on.

"Is going to be an international Quidditch star!" George finished.

Harry shifted in his seat but managed a grin, too. "Yeah, well – it's not that big of a deal."

There was a guffaw behind him, and a big hand landed on his shoulder. "M'boy, this is a big deal!" Saying this, Mr. Harde sat next to him, a roll of parchment in his hand. "I've got the contract ready, Potter. I've discussed it with your head of house, and she says that you can go to our games and practices and the like. Almost as big of a Quidditch fanatic as me."

Rolling out the parchment, it read,

_Quidditch Contract | Under 17 | English National Team_

_I, _ _ _, agree to play and practice with the U17 ENQT for a wage of _ galleons a month. This wage can be discussed and changed as seen fit by the signee. I agree to be put in the care of the Quidditch Healers if injuries occur, and accept responsibilities for such injuries (don't sue us). Please fill out the questionnaire below._

_Position: __

_Preferred formation(s): __

_(discuss with scout): Preferred broom (circle option): Cleansweep CO | Nimbus CO | Firebolt CO | other/highest bidder |_

_Printed name on uniform (initials accepted): __

_(discuss with scout): Clothing brand: __

_(discuss with scout): Desired roll in club (circle option): Crucial 1rst Team Player | Substitute/Sporadic/Future Team Player | Reserve |_

_We hope you enjoy your time with the U17 ENQT. Sign: _ __

Harry whistled, and began filling out the form as Mr. Harde began talking to the Weasleys and Angelina. Accepting Mr. Harde's magical pen, he filled out his full name, and 500 in the wage line. For position, he put Chaser, and then thought about the preferred formation. He only ever knew the Hogwarts formation, which was the standard in most teams. It was a 1-1-2-3, a Seeker, A Keeper, two Beaters, and three Chasers, but there were several different formations, in which chasers could fall back and not push forward as much, and so on and so forth. Filling in 1-1-2-3, he skipped over the preferred broom for the moment, and studied the printed name on uniform line.

After several moments of contemplation, he put in 'H. J. Potter', since he didn't like his name just as 'Harry Potter'. He decided that with a new mentality should come a new title, and so remembered to think about legally changing his name to Harry-James. He quite liked the sound of that, actually.

Skipping over the last two lines, Harry looked up at Mr. Harde. "Finished. Now what about the preferred broom and things?"

"Ah. This is where it gets tricky Harry. Sponsorship is a major roll in Quidditch; companies will pay you to wear their stuff, or use their brooms. For the preferred broom, do you prefer any companies?"

Harry shook his head. "Not necessarily. I guess I'll ride what's best."

Mr. Harde nodded, studying Harry closely. "I'm guessing you don't prefer any clothing, either, since you've only ever worn your Hogwarts robes. Let me tell you, Harry: Within the next to months, or two matches, if you make a name for yourself, the companies will be falling over each other to give you their stuff, and to pay you for it. I know for a fact that Firebolt CO pays you around 10,000 galleons every game you use their broom, and they come out with new models often. Once you get famous enough, we'll worry about that. For now, just circle other/highest bidder, and put N/A for clothing brands. For the last one, we'll wait on it. I know for a fact that you're just as good as one 16 year old Chasers; the problem is, if you aren't as good as him, we'd circle the second option: you'd be a sub, sporadic (someone who goes in every few games), or a someone who will be on the first team in the future. If you're better, which you might just be, we'd circle the crucial first team player. So there, put the second, just in case. If you beat him, you can re-fill it out and circle the first one. Capisce?"

Harry nodded, and signed with a flourish. Excitement coursed through him when the other two wizards came and sat next to Fred and George. They both introduced themselves as Joseph Goode (the one in blue) and Harley Moren (the one in orange).

"This must be young Harry! Pleasure to meet you; Joseph Goode, scout for Puddlmere United, at your service." The man reached out his hand, and Harry took it. The other said, "An honor to meet such an esteemed person; I'm Harley Moren, scout for the Chudley Cannons."

Harry blinked as he shook the hand of Mr. Moren. "Pleasure to meet you both. Why are you here?"

The two grinned. "I think you know why, Harry." Mr. Goode said. "We're both here because we were scouting for our respective teams, and we're interested."

Mr. Moren nodded. "And you must be his lovely girlfriend, Angelina. How do you do."

Angelina blushed and took his hand. Mr. Moren addressed only Angelina now: "Ms. Johnson, your leadership skills and technique in the air are excellent, but could use a bit of improvement. Which is why I'm here to offer you a contract to play as a substitute at the Cannons."

Angelina blinked, and Harry grinned and squeezed her hand. "I – me? I'm much too young, don't you think?"

Mr. Moren laughed. "The age limit is no younger than 15, young lady. And I think that you can improve greatly if you go with the Cannons."

Angelina half-laughed, half cried. "But – why not Harry? He's a bit better than me -"

Mr. Moren shook his head. "He may be, but that's Mr. Goode's job. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter is under age, and if he weren't, I'm sorry to say that we wouldn't have sufficient wages to cover such a valuable player. After all, we are fifth in the league, but we think that this is just a short run in good form; normally, we're in ninth, and thus aren't the best. At the moment, The Vultures are the best, but they won't be for long. Rumor has it Viktor Krum is transferring somewhere else. Although some think it's the Cannons, we do not have funds high enough to snatch Krum. He earns almost 10,000 galleons a month, and is in high demand from all the teams."

Harry blushed as Mr. Moren took out a rolled up piece of parchment from his robes, and when he opened it found that it was almost identical to Harry's previous one. Angelina excitedly filled it out. Mr. Goode began talking to Harry. "I regret to say, Harry, that you are too young to earn a spot on a Puddlemere United; but if you weren't you'd immediately make it as a sporadic player."

Harry thought about it. "Actually, sir, I might be of age. My godfather, Sirius Black, died recently, and if I'm correct, he named me his heir, and thus I am of age and Head of House Black."

Mr. Goode and Moren's jaws dropped. Moren sighed while Goode rummaged excitedly for his things. "Well, although the Cannons would very much like to have Harry on their team, I believe that Puddlemere would find that the Cannons were too late." Goode said, still rummaging through his things. Harry stopped him quickly.

"I'd wait, sir. I can go to Gringotts over the Winter Holidays and get myself checked, if you like, since the league season's over, and won't start until this summer in June."

Goode nodded understandingly and took his hand out of his bag.

After Angelina had finished filling out her contract, Moren said, "Ah – young lady – before you sign, I must warn you. The training is hard, and it will take up much of your school time. Will you risk it?"

Angelina nodded. "Absolutely. I've always dreamed of this." Harry smiled and squeezed her hand. "And what of my wages?"

Mr. Moren sighed. "Unfortunately, Angelina, it is not as much as your friend's; it is around 250 galleons a week, give or take 10 galleons depending on how well you play."

Angelina laughed. "Unfortunately? That a bloody fortune, thank you very much!" The people at the table laughed.

After several seconds, Harry asked, "What about the Beaters at the tryouts? Stellar, weren't they?"

Fred and George gave Harry an amazed, yet thankful look. When the three scouts turned to look at them, they grinned. "Sorry, my boy-scouts -" Fred began

"- unfortunately, we have set a future of pranks ahead of us -"

"- and we would find it difficult to play for the international or club teams -"

"- whilst managing our business. Although -"

"- we wouldn't say no -"

"- to a reserve spot on the Cannons -"

"- if you were so interested." Fred finished. The scouts looked at each other, and then the twins.

"How do you do that?" Mr. Moren asked. George grinned.

"Magic, my boy-scout. Now, if you're thinking about now hiring us because you can't waste any more of your budget -"

"- you needn't worry about that, for -"

"- we'd settle for a meager -"

"- 100 galleons a week, each." Fred finished. Mr. Moren studied both of them.

"You drive a hard bargain, boys. You two did decently out there, and one of our beaters is leaving the club, and you ask for little wage – you know what? The Cannons will wait until the actual inter-school matches to decide. Is that okay with you boys?"

Fred and George nodded together, and then the three scouts stood to go. The four Quidditch players stood with them, and shook each of their hands. "See you tomorrow, Potter." Harde smirked, before the three left the Great Hall, talking amongst themselves.

Immediately, Fred and George hopped over the table and smothered Harry in a brotherly, three-man hug.

"Er – guys – gerroff -" Harry protested as Angelina howled with laughter.

"Harry -"

" - Bloody -"

"- Potter -"

"Just about made us professional Beaters for the Cannons."

"Thanks so much, ickle Harry."

"You are now a part of the family, officially."

After another round of thank-you's, the twins left, and Angelina found themselves to be in a deserted Great Hall, the students having left already. There were only several teachers left, but they were deep in discussion. That is, except one other student; Patricia Stimpson looked at both of them like a frightened deer before sprinting away at full speed, practically screaming, "I've got to tell EVERYONE!"

Harry and Angelina smiled at her antics, and then turned towards each other, and Angelina took him in for a big hug. "Thank you so much, Harry." Angelina almost cried. "You've basically secured me a spot at the Cannons. Thanks so much -"

"No, thank you." Harry murmured, rocking her side to side lightly. She mumbled, "For what?"

"For an amazing kiss you now owe me." Harry murmured in her air. With that, Angelina lifted her head and their lips connected in a long, passionate kiss. After what seemed like hours, there was an ahem from behind Harry, and he pulled away from Angelina faster than you could blink and had cried, "Ermergerd!"

Standing in front of an embarrassed Angelina was a stern Professor McGonagall. Up at the staff table, Professor Sprout was shaking with silent laughter while Professor Flitwick was rolling on the ground laughing.

"Mr. Potter, I just wanted to congratulate both you and Ms. Johnson on going pro in Quidditch." McGonagall smiled widely suddenly, and Harry smiled with her. "We're hardly professional yet, but if I get an exclusive interview, I'll be mentioning you. After all, you're the one that got me into the sport in the first place."

McGonagall's eyes shined, and she left without another word. Harry stretched and looked down at his watch. "Shit! It's a quarter to six already! I've got to see the girl I won't tell you about. By the way, can you hang out unseen in the library for around an hour? For a cover-up."

Angelina smiled and hugged him. "But then you owe me later. Go get 'er, tiger."

**OooOooO**

Within ten minutes, Harry had changed, brushed his teeth, tried (unsuccessfully) to comb his hair, and had run to the designated meeting place in front of the ugly statue of Gregory of Swarmy. Harry had also grabbed the Marauder's' Map and his invisibility cloak; how else were they to speak from the castle unnoticed?

Harry, upon arriving, found that Daphne had also done her hair, and was wearing slim Muggle jeans and a nice top. Harry also found that Daphne had dyed long, brown streaks into her wavy hair, which he liked. Upon seeing Harry, she stopped fiddling with her hair and crossed her arms.

"Well, Potter? You were almost late. Care to explain where we're going?"

Harry sighed, not in the mood to get mad. "Look, I'm no happier about this than you are, but the only way we won't be miserable is if we start somewhere. Let's drop the last names and start talking to each other normally."

Daphne's icy mask dropped suddenly, revealing a sad, frustrated girl on the pretty face. "I know, Harry. It's just that you being with that Chaser riled me up a bit."

Harry nodded apologetically. "I get it, Daphne. But we'll talk more when we're ready; that is, once we're in Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade?" Daphne said in disbelief, raising an eyebrow as Harry took out his tightly folded cloak. Her eyes widened. "Is that -?"

"Yep. An invisibility cloak." Harry confirmed. Daphne narrowed her eyes.

"If that's real than are all the other stories real?" She asked, and Harry shrugged.

"Depends on the stories." Harry said. Nodding towards the statue, he continued, "That's a tunnel that leads straight to the Hog's Head. We cab get a bite and discuss some things."

Daphne watched Harry spread the cloak out so that it would be large enough to encompass them both. "Come on, Daphne, I don't bite."

"No, but you snog." Daphne grumbled as she took part of the cloak and covered herself, her hip pressing against Harry's upper thigh. Then, Harry tapped the statue with his wand and said, "Move your fat arse, Greg."

The statue slid over, revealing a narrow tunnel with torches and stone walls and floors. When Daphne asked why the tunnel was so nice and why they needed to wear the cloak, Harry led her in and explained, "The house-elves use this tunnel when they don't feel like Apparating. When we're halfway through, we can take it off."

Indeed, they almost stumbled upon an elf, but the cloak, but the cloak hid them from his/her sight. Around five minutes later, Harry said that they could take the cloak off, and they did. After another five minutes, Harry stopped and looked up. There was an old trap door, and voices and stamping could be heard from above. Harry knocked twice, and after several seconds it opened up and out and hands reached down. Harry gestured to the hands, do Daphne took them and let herself be pulled up. Harry went next, and he and his betrothed found themselves in the corner of a busy pub filled with older wizards.

Looking at the man who had helped them, Harry thanked him, and exclaimed, "You look like Dumbledore!"

And indeed he did; though this man's beard was grey rather than white, and he seemed stockier and stronger. "Aye! I am one! Aberforth Dumbledore, at your service." They shook hands, with Daphne, too.

"Is there any room? Do you work here?" Harry asked.

"Aye, and aye, kid, there's some room for you and your lady friend."

"Excellent." Harry said without missing a beat. Several minutes later, they were seated a couple's table, ordering drinks; Daphne, Butterbeer, and Harry, Firewhiskey, which he had grown to stand and enjoy.

"So, Harry. Let's start at First Year. Fill me in on your adventures."

So for the next half an hour, Harry went through his life at school. When he'd reached Third Year, Daphne exclaimed, "Sirius Black is innocent? AND your godfather? Are you serious?" To which Harry had nodded and joked weakly, "No, he was."

Daphne laughed a light, tinkling laugh. "Where is he now? In hiding?"

Harry's gaze darkened, and he looked out at the darkening sky. "We helped him escape, but the dementors I had fought off came back and killed him."

Daphne's eyes widened, and she placed her hand on Harry's while he took another swig of his drink. "I'm sorry, Harry.", and after a minute, Harry shrugged it off.

"Yeah, well, shit happens. You just have to – erm – flush it down the toilet, I guess." He finished awkwardly, and Daphne laughed weakly. "What a master of analogies." She said, and Harry cracked a smile.

When he had finally finished his story up to the present, it was a quarter to seven, and they both decided that they were tired. Before leaving, Harry bought several more flasks of Firewhiskey to share with friends. So they said goodbye to 'Abe', and left back down the tunnel, which took them ten minutes to finally get back to the school.

Before they parted ways, Daphne stopped him and said, "Harry, thanks. I learned a lot and really enjoyed myself tonight."

Harry shrugged and looked away, saying, "I enjoyed myself, too."

Whilst he was looking away, he felt warm lips press against his cheek. When the lips receded, Harry turned back and watched her strangely.

"What? You earned it, Potter. You really know how to make a woman want to laugh and cry at the same time."

When she turned to go, Harry stopped her. "Wait – Daphne. I just wanted to say sorry about me and Angelina."

"It's . . . fine, Harry -" Daphne started sadly, but Harry shook her shoulder.

"No. It's not fine. I'm being selfish whenever I hang out with her. It's just that – last year, I heard you went out with someone. Me? I've barely touched a girl in my life since this year. It's just – I feel that it's unfair that I haven't lived my life yet. But I have a proposition."

Daphne raised her eyebrow, but she had a small smile on her face from her betrothed's apology. "Oh? This Slytherin is listening."

"I'll keep going out with Angelina until school ends, or however long it lasts – and in return, we can go together to the Ball that's bound to happen after Christmas. Deal?"

Daphne beamed. "Deal, Harry." They shook hands, and they both turned to go. By the time they were on opposite sides of the hallway, Harry called back to her, "Oi! Daphne!"

She turned, and Harry asked, "Same time next week?"

Daphne's laugh echoed around the hall. "You bet your arse, Potter. But next time, I'll pick where we're going. No more Firewhiskey for you."

**OooOooO**

Harry then happily made his way to the library to meet up with Angela, and thank her for covering for him. Once he had found her among the bookshelves, he tapped her shoulder. But before he could say anything, the female Chaser pulled him into the row of books and snogged him, hard, for a full five minutes. Remembering her advice, Harry allowed her to run her hands through his hair, whilst he lowered his hands so that they were at the small of her back. Suddenly, his hands were full of his girlfriend's arse as she stood on her toes to kiss his nose. Lowering herself gently, she basically told Harry that her arse was officially free territory.

Unfortunately, the deal worked both ways, for as they finished, Angelina grabbed his southern cheeks. They then left the shelves and sat at a fluffy chair in the corner of the library, Angelina on his lap as she idly played with his messy hair. Raising his watch to his nose, Harry's eyes widened. "Merlin's saggy ball sack, Ann – we were snogging for almost twenty minutes!"

And so they had, for there was still forty-five minutes before eight, or curfew. Angelina smiled. "Brilliant. Now, what should we do for more than half an hour? By the way, you tasted good; what have you been drinking?" In answer, Harry pulled out a small flask of some extra of what he had drunk during his date. Angelina chuckled. "Already drinking some good ole Firewhiskey? How much have you drunk, and how much do you have left?"

In answer, Harry pulled out one more empty flask, and then four full ones. Angelina cackled. "I feel sorry for you, baby. You'll be regretting it tomorrow morning."

Harry shrugged, but suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've an idea!" Letting the empty flask drop to the floor but stuffing the full ones back into this pocket, he stood.

With that, he scooped his girlfriend out of his lap like a baby and jogged out of the library, his destination the Quidditch Pitch. On the way, through the locker rooms, Harry grabbed his Firebolt. The setting sun went long shadows across the Pitch, and the cool air woke up the couple and heightened their senses. However, there were already students above the grass. The group consisted of the entire reserve team from the inter-school tryouts, and most of the substitute students. Upon seeing the two best Chasers, Ginny Weasley flew down from the squad, and explained to Angelina that she and the reserves wanted to practice a little extra, and Angelina understood, saying that she'd watch the mock–matches.

Harry then got onto his Firebolt and sat Angelina in front of himself, facing away from him, and flew up into the now orange and purple sky. He and his girlfriend shared a long, passionate kiss before settling to watch the sun set. When the sun finally went below the horizon, and the air began to get icy, their Head of House came out and ordered them all to their common rooms for the night. Thus, Harry and Angelina did so.

However, they didn't go to sleep. Instead, in the joy of being picked to go pro in Quidditch, they sat in the love seat in front of the fire as the rest of the Gryffindors threw a party around them. Together, they finished off the last four flasks of Firewhiskey until they passed out in one another's arms.

**OooOooO**

Harry woke up with a massive, pounding migraine, with his throat feeling dry and sticky at the same time. However, the means in which he woke up were even worse; he had woken to an '_Aguamenti_" to the face. He and his girlfriend both threw themselves forward onto the floor, with three girls behind them laughing their hearts out.

Harry stumbled to his feet to see the Patil twins and Katie Bell (in jogging clothes) watching them brightly. "Wake up, love-birds! Let's go do some running!" Katie said excitedly. Harry groaned, and helped his girlfriend up, saying, "Listen, Katie, I'm glad you're okay, but this is cruel."

Katie smiled wider as Angelina was helped to her feet. "By the way, thanks for saving me, Harry. I owe you." and she kissed him on the cheek. Harry barely reacted, as he was in the middle of his massive hangover. Angela mumbled, "'S okay, Harry, I've got some Potions for this in my dorm. I'll get 'em."

Harry nodded, but when he did, he noticed that the cold water had risen a reaction from his girlfriend; her nipples could be seen as nubs through he shirt. Harry flushed and said quickly, "Thanks, Ann – you're the breasts. I mean - best! Be right back!"

Harry sprinted away to his dorm while the girls laughed. Looking down, Angelina snickered. "Poor Harry. As punishment for looking at mah boobs, he will not get any Potion until we deem him fit." The girls all agreed with choruses of laughter.

Half an hour after a smack upside the head and a playful scolding about not looking at Angelina's breasts, they had finished their run, but had not yet given Harry the Potion, and so he was moaning in pain by the time they were at the Great Hall. When they sat down at their same spots as yesterday, Hermione patted Harry on the shoulder sadly. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Head hurts." Harry grumbled, putting his elbows on the table and rubbing his palms into his eyes. Angelina snickered again. "Harry and I drank an arseload of Firewhiskey last night. We haven't given him so much as a Pepper-Up Potion yet."

Hermione giggled. "Serves you right, Harry, for drinking that vile stuff."

Harry just moaned louder, "It tastes so good but hurts so bad. My throat burns, too." Harry rubbed his eyes harder, watching the interesting patterns flit under his eyelids.

"Don't rub your eyes, Harry. It's bad for you." Katie admonished evilly. Harry grumbled in return, "So is not taking a bloody hangover potion when I've drunk a little more than a couple bloody flasks of Firewhiskey. Must I remind you I have practice today, and may need that by lunch?"

Katie looked confused. "What practice?"

Angelina quickly filled her in on what she had missed with a cracked head. Katie was ecstatic. "Congratulations, guys! What are you gonna tell the coach when you meet him, Harry?"

"That my head hurts, my throat burns and my friends hate me." Harry groaned, crossing his arms and putting them flat on the table, resting his head in between.

"Should you give it to him, now?" Hermione asked uncertainly as Katie laughed. "I think he's had enough . . ."

Angela tapped her chin thoughtfully before musing, "Nah. Methinks he needs around half an hour to finish his punishment. Remember, Katie and Parvarti? Young Harry here looked at mah boobs when I got some water on me."

Hermione gasped and smacked Harry in the back of the head repeatedly. "Harry James Potter! You should know better!"

Not moving, Harry moaned back, his voice muffled, "I couldn't help myself, 'Mione. I saw the nipples, too. Thought you should know."

The girls howled with laughter as Hermione picked up her thick book and started whacking Harry on the head over and over again. After a minute, she was interrupted from her rage when Professor McGonagall approached them, saying, "Ms. Granger, before you continue, may I ask as to why Mr. Potter is seemingly laying dead on the table, and why you are trying to smash his brains out with Standard Book of Spells: Year 4?" McGonagall asked sternly. The entire Great Hall turned to watch. Hermione blushed beet red under the attention, but was saved when Harry grumbled into the table, "She's mad that I've seen the boobs of Angelina."

McGonagall blinked as the students close to Harry burst out laughing. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry picked his head up in his hands. "I said I drank a lot of F – er, Butterbeer last night, and my head hurst because I drank too much."

The Hall laughed as McGonagall sighed audibly. "Are you sure you didn't mean Firewhiskey, Mr. Potter? I wasn't aware that Butterbeer had any alcohol content."

The Hall laughed in louder at Harry's response: "Oh, it doesn't, but I drank so bloody much of it. So much bloody Butterbeer." He moaned pitifully. McGonagall tried to keep a smirk off her face as she went on, "Then why was there a flask Firewhiskey found in the library, in the spot where you and Ms. Johnson sat?"

The students leaned in to here Harry's answer, "I don't know, Professor. I don't never believe I wasn't not never going to not drink Firewhiskey. I mean, Butterbeer. Or Firewhiskey?"

This time, the Professor couldn't keep the smile off her face as everyone laughed. "Care to repeat that, Mr. Potter?"

"Don't think I could, Professor. You see, my head hurts."

McGonagall smiled, and amidst the laughter, said, "Ladies, please give Mr. Potter some of your potion. Ms. Granger, please stop violating Mr. Potter with your book. Ten points from Ms. Johnson and Mr. Potter for drinking illegal substances on the grounds. However, 20 points to each of you for becoming the youngest professional Quidditch players Hogwarts has ever taught."

Harry didn't react at all to the discussion until he downed the sickly green potion, and grimaced as he tasted it. "Eugh. Tastes like Firewhiskey."

With his last statement, McGonagall left as the students and teachers laughed and applauded at Harry's performance. When they audience's attention went back to their food, Angelina said loudly, "I could kiss you right now."

The Hall still quiet, Harry made as how of tasting the inside of his mouth. "I wouldn't go for it, Ann. Unless you'd fancy one last dose of the finest Wizarding whiskey around."

As the Great Hall had this last laugh, Angelina pulled Harry in for a kiss.


	4. Part One: Chapter Four

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

Chapter 4: The Goblet

Since later that day, the foreign schools, Beauxbatons from France and Durmstrang from Norway, were getting to Hogwarts that day, classes were once again canceled for the day. For the rest of the morning, Harry, Angelina, Katie, and the Weasley twins went to the pitch to practice. Angelina insisted that the teams she had selected were fair.

"George, Katie and I, versus you and Fred! Totally fair!" But in the end, they decided to play keep-away, boys versus girls, as the boys had two non-Chasers, and would be at the disadvantage. However, Harry was careful not to exert himself. He did, after all, have his first practice with the Under 17 English National Quidditch Team after lunch.

Thus, all too soon, lunch came, and Harry nervously played with his food. Angelina scolded him, "Eat up, Potter! You'll need it; you're going to be there for more than two hours."

Harry had sighed, picked up his fork, and started eating his chicken salad. But just as he started, he was stopped when a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned, and for the second time that day, found his Head of House behind him. She held out a one inch by one inch medallion, depicting a broomstick.

"Mr. Potter, this portkey will get you to the training grounds when you say your full name. George said to wear your best Muggle clothes, and to bring nothing else."

Harry, confused, took the medallion and slipped it into his pocket. "Why the good Muggle clothes?"

The Professor had only smiled at him and said, "That's not my place to say, Mr. Potter. Nevertheless, expect a lot of pictures." Harry shrugged in response. Looking down at his watch, he asked, "When does he want me there?" For it was, at the time, exactly twelve o'clock.

"Quarter after, sharp. Good luck, Mr. Potter." She smiled one last time, and left to the Head Table. Harry glanced nervously at his grinning girlfriend, and said, "Ann, can you help me with my clothes? I know what to wear, but my hair is rubbish."

In response, Angelina laughed. "I would've come anyway."

Within five minutes, Harry and Angelina had reached the common room. Harry was surprised to see Angelina follow him, but recalled that girls were allowed in the boys' dorm, but not vice versa. He quickly changed into nice black shoes, black slacks, and a dark green button-down shirt. Harry had rolled up the sleeves, and the actual shirt was fitted perfectly for his build, hugging his chest and shoulders. Angelina clapped.

"That's decent, but now for your hair!" For the next five minutes, Harry (eyes closed) let his hair be played with. After said time, Angelina squealed and said, "Open your eyes!"

Harry did so, and found that his hair had kept its messy demeanor, but seemed more tame. It looked as though Harry had finger-combed it perfectly, and he smiled. "Thanks a bunch, Ann." Harry grinned.

Checking his watch once more, he found it was 12:13, and so he turned to Ann. "What can a couple do for two minutes alone? Any suggestions?"

In answer, Angelina pulled him in and gave a quick kiss, but pushed him away. "That's just for luck. We'll see if you deserve more when you get back."

Harry smiled nervously, fiddling with the medallion that he had slipped around his neck. Tucking it under his shirt so that it touched his chest, he gave Angelina one last smile before

"Harry James Potter."

There was a pop and then a crack as Harry felt something hook his navel and pull him forward. Everything around him swirled into a green haze, and after some tossing and turning, Harry landed on his feet in a field of grass to see Mr. Harde right in front of him.

"Ah! Harry, you're a bit early. Let's get this show on the road! First, look around."

Harry did, and gaped. This pitch was the same size as the one at Hogwart's, but massive lights beamed down from above what seemed like humungous steel stands. To describe it, Harry would've said that it looked just like a football stadium. Above him, the sun was almost directly centered, and a breeze floated its way past him. The place was totally empty, save Harry and Mr. Harde.

Said man, who was dressed in a shirt and tie, put an arm around Harry. "You're looking good! Anyway, this stadium is used for all our practices and some of the home matches. The one this weekend against the Netherlands. After the conference, you'll change and practice with the boys here."

"Conference, sir?" Harry asked uncertainly, and Mr. Harde laughed.

"It's alright, nothing too difficult. We'll be going into the conference room, and you'll sit on one of the center chairs at the front of the room. I'll sit to the outside, next to you. The reporters will ask you a few questions, but if you feel uncomfortable with answering it, just say 'No comment,' and they'll let it be. Then, you'll follow me back out here, we'll hold up your jersey and shake hands, and they'll take a couple hundred pictures for the Daily Prophet and such. Remember to smile as much as you can without being bloody creepy. Got it?"

Harry nodded nervously as Mr. Harde led him off the pitch and into the locker rooms. They passed through them, and soon came into a large room with rows of plastic chairs lined in front of an elevated platform with a long desk, microphones, and water bottles on top. Harry noticed that there were four chairs rather than two, and when he asked his scout about it, he had waved it off.

"Krum and the coach from the Vultures are here, too, to discuss if he'll be transferred to Puddlemere or not. They'll be asking him questions, too."

As they both went onto the platform and sat, Harry shivered with nerves and excitement. He was meeting Krum, whom he had heard so much about. One of the best Seekers in the world, and only 17 years old.

As he thought, the door Mr. Harde and himself had come through burst open, to reveal a tall but surprisingly slim young man with bushy eyebrows, black eyes, and large nose. He was followed by a shorter, older gentlemen. Mr. Harde stood and greeted the older, and Harry stood as the young man approached. Harry found that he was only several inches shorter than the Seeker. Harry stretched out his hand.

"Viktor Krum? Honored to meet you." Harry said, determined not to let his voice crack, or to let him seem more excited than he actually was. The man raised a large eyebrow and took Harry's hand. He then spoke in a heavily accented voice, "Likewise. Are you the new addition to the Under 17 English National Squad?"

Harry nodded and withdrew his hand. "Yes, I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Krum let out a guffaw as he and Harry sat in their respective seats, Krum right next to him, in the center as well. "For real? Well, Harry, you will become more famous than ever before. I have overheard Damien, my coach, that the English younger squad was getting a new addition, and that he was very good. I'm surprised if several clubs haven't approached you already, as it is hard to get such high praise from Damien."

Harry grinned. "Puddlemere United are the only one who's approached me, but that's probably because I'm only 14."

Krum gaped. "Only 14? Then I'm very excited to watch you practice. I believe that you can become the best Chaser in the world by the time your my age, if you're as good as they say."

Harry shrugged modestly. "I hope I am. Anyway, this is a bit random, but what can I expect my wages to be if I get on your level by the time I'm 17?"

Krum tilted his head. "Chasers are paid a little more than Seekers, as they are more prone to injury. Right now, I'm making 75,000 galleons a month. The international Chasers of my caliber are making around 100,000."

Harry whistled. "I've heard that you're moving to Puddlemere. Hopefully, I'll see you there this summer."

Krum smiled. "I will look forward to it. How much did they offer you in wages?"

"500 galleons." Harry said, and Krum raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, you must get yourself an agent when you really go pro. If you make it onto Puddlemere's first team, they won't hesitate to raise it to 25,000 a month, give or take 5,000, depending on your skill level. The same goes with the U17 ENQT. If you make it onto the first team of the U17, you'll be able to ask for almost 30,000, and when you turn 17, you can ask for 100,000. That's not including any companies that want to sponsor you."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Are there any broom or clothes companies that you recommend?"

Krum nodded. "I'd say that the Firebolt company has the best quality and pay the most. They give me around 50,000 galleons a match. As for clothes, I prefer South American Magical Athletics, as they have the finest material, sewn from the hairs of an old dragon's whiskers."

Harry looked at him, alarmed and amazed, and Krum laughed. "I am kidding, Harry. They use cloth from the Lethifold. SAMA's has several Lethifold farms, where they study and kill the beasts by getting a dozen powerful wizards and casting Patronuses on it at the same time. The cloth is like silk, and as light as air. They also conform perfectly to the person wearing it. They are top quality, and SAMA pay me around 50,000 a match."

Harry shivered. Lethifolds were one of the darkest creatures, and closely related to dementors. They looked like black cloaks, floating along the ground, and when they find a victim, they envelope them in their beds and suffocate them, digesting them in the same spot.

They were interrupted as a massive crowd of wizards and witches (mostly witches) streamed into the room from a set of double doors behind the rows of chairs. Krum glanced sideways at Harry and asked him if he'd done this before, to which Harry answered, "No."

Krum smiled sympathetically. "Just do what I do, Harry, and you'll survive."

Once the reporters had taken their seats, they immediately took out notepads and massive old fashioned cameras. Mr. Harde stood up and said, "Welcome, everyone. We'll get this started right away. I'm George Harde, scout and assistant coach for the U17 and adult ENQT. On the end is Damien Polskoff, head coach and manager of the Vratsa Vultures,"

Damien stood and bowed, and the audience clapped respectfully.

"- and next to him is Viktor Krum, 17 year old Seeker for the Bulgarian national team and the Vratsa Vultures, here to answer your questions and to discuss any transfer updates."

More clapping, and a few cheers as Krum didn't do anything other than nod. Mr. Harde continued, "And this is the newest signing to the U17 ENQT, who will be receiving his jersey today. He is 14 year old Chaser, Harry James Potter, also here to answer questions."

Harry managed a smile and a casual one finger salute to the reporters. They clapped and cheered like mad, and quills scratched against notepads, and many photos were taken.

Mr. Harde grinned at them all. "Alright, let's get started!" As he said this, the reporters began calling out the two Quidditch players' names and waving their hands. Mr. Harde selected someone in the front row, who stood up and said, "Mr. Potter! When did you become a Chaser? And why? You were a Seeker before, were you not?"

Harry said quietly but clearly into the microphone, "I was, up until this year. Over the summer, I exercised and was able to fill out a bit. When I went back to Hogwarts to try out for the inter-house team, I found that though I was stronger, that my movements were slower. I decided to try and play as a Chaser because my father was, and because I'm a bit too – erm – large for the Seeker position."

"You mean buff?" one of the younger female reporters called out, and Harry shrugged.

"You can call it that if you wish." The crowd laughed as Mr. Harde selected another one.

"This is for both of you – sorry if this is too personal, but what are your religious views?" he asked, and Harry gestured to Krum, who answered slowly, "It is my understanding that most magical peoples are Christian, although they do not practice, or believe in the after life. I share these views."

Harry answered next, after a moment's hesitation. "I've never really given it much thought, but what I will say is that while I respect the Judeo-Christian ethic, along with the Eastern philosophies and the teachings of Muhammad, I've found that organized religion has corrupted those beliefs, to justify countless atrocities throughout history. Were I to title myself to a certain religion, I'd be a hypocrite. Thus, you can call me nonreligious, with morals. Or a handsome atheist."

The crowd whistled appreciatively as one called out, "That's deep for a young man.", and Harry smirked. "I try."

The next question was, "This is for both of you, and is for Teen Witches' Weekly. Do either of you have a special girl in your life?"

Both young men smiled. Viktor said, "I am currently beginning a relationship with a girl that I've recently met. As such, I am unavailable."

Harry answered, "I've recently gone into a relationship with a girl, but we both agree it won't be long term. Everyone needs to experiment, right?"

Someone called out, "Right!" as Harry continued, "It is also a problem that she, too, will be signing to a Quidditch club, and we don't want to compete with this relationship intact. Also, she is two years older than me, and will be leaving Hogwarts either next year or the year after that."

The crowd sighed sympathetically, and Mr. Harde selected the next reporter. "Have either of you been approached by any major clubs, other than you're own, Viktor?"

Viktor looked at his coach, who nodded, and he said to the reporter, "I will be moving to Puddlemere United in the summer, as the Vultures feel that with the transfer money they make with me, they can build a stronger team all around."

After a moment of reporters scribbling this new information down, Harry answered, "I, too, have been approached by Puddlemere, and will most likely be moving there this summer. Although I am not 15 yet, I may be an emancipated adult, and will confirm this during the winter holidays."

The next question was, "Mr. Krum, I understand that you will be visiting Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Will either of you enter?"

Viktor answered, "I will be entering, not for the money, but for the honor of representing Durmstrang."

Harry answered, "Absolutely not. I am not old enough, and I have too much going on right now. Besides, I need neither the money nor the fame."

After twenty minutes, the final question was, "How was both your first kisses?"

Viktor smiled and said, "I hit her in the eye with my nose."

The crowd and Harry guffawed, and after a minute, Harry answered, "It was perfect until she pushed me off the broom."

The room continued to laugh at their unfortunate kisses, and Mr. Harde finally said, "That'll be all for today. Harry, if you'd follow me -"

Harrys stepped off the platform and followed Mr. Harde back through the locker room, back out to the pitch, Viktor and the reporters following. Turning, Mr. Harde presented one side of a white jersey with, "H. J. Potter" sewn onto the back. Under that, there was a large "11". Harry smiled at the cameras as he shook Mr. Harde's hand over the outstretched jersey.

After several minutes, Mr. Harde shooed the reporters to the stands, and Harry was pushed into the locker room and to go to the cubby with his name engraved. Harry did, and changed into the presented clothes. There were tight red pants and fitted red shirt, with what looked like white armor on top of it. Slipping on the jersey, it automatically conformed with his body, and then stuck there so that they wouldn't billow around in the wind. He then slipped on some brown shoes and jogged out back onto the pitch.

Looking around the stands, he found the same reporters filling up a small portion of the stadium, with a lot more being filled with random people. When Harry asked Mr. Harde about it, he said, "People come and watch the practices for free."

Looking beyond Mr. Harde to the center of the pitch, he found that the U17 squad were all conversing with one another, and they all seemed to be the same height as Harry. As Harry approached the dozen kids, they all stopped talking and studied the newcomer, and Harry studied them in turn. The majority were boys, but there were around four girls, all of whom were short but strong. After Harry shifting nervously, one of the players tossed him a Firebolt.

The tallest in the group came forward. "Here, kid. Harry Potter, was it? We're going to start practice. Just follow me around and do what the boys do while we do. If you end up being good, we'll treat you like another teammate. If you suck or cause trouble, you'll get shunned. Understand?"

"Course." Harry said, rolling his shoulders. "When do we start?"

The team grinned. "Now, Potter. Up we go!" In a second, the squad was in the air, and Harry quickly hopped on his and flew up to meet them. The tall boy studied him. "Good grip, not wavering. Nice start. Now, let's fly a few laps. And when I say fly a few laps, I mean that all contact is allowed, and you will try to push each other off their brooms as you circle around. There are cushioning charms all over the ground, so if you fall, you should sow down enough before you hit the ground. Though this isn't allowed in a real game, it will happen, and you'll have to react. Now, go!"

Harry followed the squad to the outside of the pitch, next to the stands as they began to circle. Harry flew up to the left, on the inside of the circle, so that if he was bumped, he wouldn't hit the stadium. Glancing to his left, he found that already there were several boys who had been thrown off, and lay on the ground below. Harry was jolted from his thoughts as a shoulder bashed into his. Looking over, he found a burly Beater watching him closely, and he came in for another hit.

At the last second, Harry spun upwards and over him, and then bashed him in the same direction he was going. The boy swerved off course, and swerved once again to narrowly miss the hoops, but fell as he was upside-down, and his broom couldn't support his speed towards the ground. And so as he fell, Harry had to swerve to avoid yet another bash.

Lowering himself to his previous position, he found that there were only himself and four other people were left. Harry waited until another one fell when he decided to begin his own attack. Pulling forward several feet in front of the leader, Harry waited until they had circled around the round part of the pitch, and then initiated his attack. He stopped abruptly, and the boy behind him's shoulder was hit with Harry's shoe. The boy lurched sideways and ways able to hold onto his broom with one hand until he let go, falling below.

Harry looked again to the side, and seeing no one there, began to smile, but was interrupted when something caught his shoe, and he was sent barrel-rolling at just the wrong time; they were nearing the bend, and as a result, the attacker hoped to have Harry crash against the hoops. Flattening himself to his broom, Harry used his momentum to guide his body and broom straight through the bottom right hoop, his sides barely scraping the rounded metal. Spinning back out, he found that the person who had hit him, a girl with short brown hair, was watching him with respect. Harry sat straighter in his broom as a feeling of pride filled his system.

Before he could plan out his next move, however, the tall boy blew a whistle, and the girl turned to the sound and flew over. Harry followed dutifully.

When they'd reached the throng of people, the tall boy grinned at Harry. "Nice flying, Potter. That's the first time I've seen someone spin right through a hoop and still fly." Turning and nodding to the girl, he said, "Same with you, Vang. Nice job of avoiding the others, the both of you."

Quickly moving on, he said, "Now we'll practice with the individual Chasers. All you Beaters, get over to the sides of the pitch, two on each side. Chasers, stay here, and Keepers, form a line behind the posts, with the starter in front. Seekers, fly up and watch. You'll be telling me how they did what, since I can only watch from one angle."

As the players scattered, Harry noticed that there were three Seekers, three Keepers, four Beaters, and four Chasers, including Harry. The tall boy then cast an amplifying charm on his voice and explained, "Alright, guys, this is how it's going to go down. Mr. Harde!" He called down to the ground. Mr. Harde was underneath them, with a chest full of Bludgers and a sack of Quaffles at his feet. "You'll release the Bludgers and charm them to go to the Beaters. When I blow the whistle, the Beaters will try and hit the Bludgers so that they hit the Chasers, who will be receiving a pass from me. The Keepers will swap out every time there's a shot. Alright, Chasers? Form a line behind me."

The Chasers did so as Mr. Harde charmed two bludgers to go to a Beater on each side. Harry was third in his line, with two girls in front of him, and one boy behind him. One of those girls was the one that had flipped him, and Harry told himself to watch the girl, as he felt he could pick up a few things from her.

The tall boy flew far to the side, near the stadium stands, and levitated the sack of Quaffles up to him. Tying them to the back of his broom, he took one out and prepared to throw, calling out, "On my whistle! Three, two, *tweet!*"

The first Chaser in line zoomed forward and swerved around one of the Bludgers with a jerk. Fumbling for the Quaffle that had been thrown at her, she tried to throw, but without the proper grip, the Keeper was able to kick it away. When the Quaffle hit the ground, Mr. Harde charmed them so that they flew themselves back into the tall boy's bag.

Vang zoomed forward next, spun, caught the Quaffle, and took a straight, hard shot off. The Keeper was able to punch away the ball as Vang swerved to avoid two bludgers.

Harry pushed himself forward, and checked shoulders, checking where the next Quaffle would go for him. Catching it with one hand, he tucked it under his arm as he heard a bludger race towards him. Looking over, he found it several meters away, aiming for his left thigh, so Harry lifted his leg and stamped it it, causing it to fly away and relocate to a Beater. Awkwardly avoiding the next bludger, Harry looked up and in a split second located the Keeper, who was guarding the post closest to Harry, which was the left side. Replicating what he had done in the try outs, Harry twisted his body, hooked his fingers on one side of the ball, and let it loose, twisting his hand at the last minute, aiming about a foot to the right of the far right hoop. The Keeper wasn't able to reach it, but unfortunately, the ball didn't have enough curve, and was only able to hit the rim, sending a hum through the whole stadium from the force of the impact.

Harry flew back in line, and Vang glanced at him. "Nice kick, Potter." She said amused at the way Harry had gotten rid of the bludger, and the 14 year old shrugged. "I try."

After several repetitions of this drill (which took almost an hour), the tall boy blew the whistle once more, and the Bludgers flew down towards the ground. The tall boy flew down as well, and the team followed him. Once they'd landed, the tall boy stood next to Mr. Harde and looked out at the dozen.

"Nice practice today. Potter, you've earned my respect. That was some nice defensive maneuvering and field positioning. You've earned a spot as a sub at this weekend's game against the Dutch. Nice job. Everyone else? You all smell. Hit the showers."

The squad chuckled as they left to do just that, the girls going to their designated locker rooms and the boy's theirs. Before he went in, the tall boy stopped him and held out his hand. "The name's Joe Jaffney, captain of the team, and I'd like to say that you're very good for a 14 year old. In fact, most of the guys here are 16, and you're as good as and better than most of them. Welcome to the team."

Harry smiled and shook the hand. "It's great to be here, Joe."

Joe nodded as he withdrew his hand. "And don't worry about being on the subs for long, Harry. The other boy Chaser is turning 17 next week, and'll be leaving the squad. You'll be getting first team minutes by the end of the month, I assure you. Concerning this weekend's game, we'll sub you in when one of the others gets tired. Before you ask, I'm also a Chaser, and do play for the squad as the center. What position do you prefer?"

Harry smiled. "The left. I like to curve it on my right side, and being on the left lets me let loose."

Joe grinned. "I hear you. We'll be meeting here on Sunday at 9:30, and the game'll be played here, since it's home. See you there."

With that, Mr. Harde approached him. "Nice practice, kid. It's almost six already, so you don't have time to change here. Here are your clothes, and you can use the portkey now. You can change at Hogwarts, as the other schools are getting there in half an hour. I'll see you at the game." He handed Harry a pile of his dress clothes, with something else on top. It was white and looked silky. When he asked, Mr. Harde explained, "It's a jacket you get for getting on the team. It's made of Lethifold skin, and very rare. Don't screw it up."

Harry nodded and said his full name. His navel was hooked by nothing, and everything around him swirled in color.

**OooOooO**

Harry's vision stopped spinning, and he found himself landing on the main street of Hogsmeade. As he stood up and brushed himself off, he glanced around into the mid afternoon, reasoning that Hogwarts probably didn't let people port key in, and most likely relocated him to the next safest spot. Noticing the Three Broomsticks to his right, he stepped in and was greeted by the pretty Madam Rosmerta.

"Harry Potter! Drafted by England, eh? Congrats!" She said, polishing a glass. Harry now understood why Ron would fancy her, as she was still pretty as ever; large assets, curly dirty blonde hair, and a fair face. Despite her appearance, Harry felt no other feelings other than gratitude towards her.

"Thanks, Rosmerta. Can I borrow a room for a moment? I'd just like to change from these clothes." Harry explained, plucking at his Quidditch robes. Rosmerta beamed and nodded, ushering him to the back and into an empty room, similar to his own at the Leaky Cauldron, and left him to change. After a moment's hesitation, Harry called out experimentally, "Dobby?"

There was a pop, and a small wrinkled grey creature with large eyes and thin bat-like ears appeared in front of him. With a squeak, it leapt forward and latched itself onto Harry's calf.

"Oh, Dobby was being wondered about when the great Mr. Harry Potter sir would call! What can Dobby do for the noble and brave Boy-Who-Keeps-Living?"

Harry smirked at his newly given title. "Hi, Dobby. I was just wondering if you could grab some of my Muggle clothes from my dorm. It's next to my storage chest, if you need to know. And while you're there, can you drop these off, too?" Harry held out the portion of his pile of clothes that he'd worn for his interview.

Dobby took them and cried, "Dobby bes back in a second!" And, sure enough, several seconds later after he had popped out, Dobby returned with a different set of clothes: the jeans and t-shirt and hoodie he'd worn earlier that day.

Harry then ordered Dobby to leave for a moment as he changed. Dobby left and Harry changed, although refrained from putting on his hoodie, and instead studied the gift from Mr. Harde. It was a thin, silky athletic half-zip jacket, and Harry figured that the jacket must've been charmed white, for Harry had understood that Lethifolds were black and could withstand almost any form of attack other than Patronuses. Harry hoped that those traits would carry on to its clothing. After a quick charm-detection charm, Harry learned that the jacket was also charmed with a warm-cool charm, where it would become warm when you're cold, or cold when your warm. Studying the design, Harry smiled at the initial white, and then the large red cross that stretched from its right shoulder to its right hip, and the horizontal stripe around the stomach area. On its left breast was a small badge in the shape of a shield, depicting a red broomstick with 'ENQT' in red underneath it.

Upon slipping it on, Harry marveled at how cool it felt on his arms, and how he could barely feel any weight on his shoulders. Harry then decided to conduct further research on its spell-resistance, and to also ask Viktor about it. He most likely had one, too.

When he called Dobby back in, he said, "Dobby, can you pop me into the castle?"

Dobby shook his head, ears flapping. "No, Mr. Harry Potter sir. The wards doesn't allows wizards or witches to get in. Only elveses."

Harry frowned, and then asked, "This is for my friend. Why is it that house-elves don't want to be master-less? Other than it's imbedded into your brains."

Dobby froze, but after smacking his own head a few times, he gestured for Harry to lean forward. When he'd done so, Dobby whispered conspiratorially, "The free elveses bes losing their magics, sir."

Harry blinked and stepped back. "Really? Why?"

Dobby looked up at him with his large eyes. "House elveses be made from Erklings many centuries ago. The only way we is staying like this is because wes is using magic from master's core. When an elf is bonded to a master, their magics is linked. If we become master-less, we bes turning into Erklings, sir."

Harry knit his eyebrows. "Erklings? I've heard of those, but what are they, really?"

Dobby shivered. "They is as tall as us, but they look like birds, with really long beaks. They cackle, and that draws children to them, and then they eats them. House-elveses don't tell our masters why we don't want to be freed because they might be scared."

Harry whistled. "Thanks a lot for telling, Dobby. Here, you can take my Quidditch robes back and put it on my bed, and then do what you were doing before. Thanks loads for everything else."

After Dobby had gushed and thanked him profusely, he popped out. Harry then left the room and, after exchanging flirtatious compliments with Rosmerta, made his way up the trail towards his school.

**OooOooO**

Thirty minutes later, Harry (who had jogged the entire way to test out his jacket's effects), had reached the large double doors of Hogwarts. Once he'd slipped inside, he found Angelina (clothed in school robes) waiting for him.

"Harry! How was it? Wait! Never mind, you're late! The schools have already gotten here. Also, there's VIKTOR BLOODY KRUM at the Gryffindor table asking which house Harry Potter was in. He's sitting there right now, waiting for you! Wait! You're not changed! Oh, never mind that, let's go! Come on! Your late!"

Harry smiled at her rapid speech and pulled her in for a hug and a quick kiss before they linked hands and made their way into the Great Hall.

When they were in, Harry found the whole school sitting at their tables, with a dozen beautiful light-blue clad girls sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and a dozen fur-clad guys sitting at the Gryffindor table. Seeing Viktor talking with Katie Bell and the Weasley twins, Harry grinned and made his way over.

Upon seeing him, Viktor grinned and stood up, taking Harry's hand and then embracing him.

"Harry, you're here! I had to leave halfway through your practice, but the rumors are true. You are very good." Viktor said deeply, and Harry smirked in return.

"Thanks man. Now, sit! I've got to ask you several questions." Harry ordered, and they both sat, Hermione next to Krum and Angelina next to Harry, who was oblivious to the stares of all those in the Hall at his friendly greeting with the professional Seeker.

"Let me introduce all these guys, even though you've already met them. These two are Fred and George Weasley, don't ask me which is which, because no one cares, their basically the same. That's Katie Bell, a very good Chaser, who was sadly injured during the inter-house tryouts and can't play Chaser. But somehow, she miraculously survived the fall off her broom."

Katie rolled her eyes and said playfully, "Don't be so modest, you idiot. You bloody caught me. Some miracle."

Harry quickly moved on as they laughed, "That over there is Hermione Granger, smartest female Gryffindor,"

"Why female?" Hermione said smirking. "For the past four years, I've seen no decently clever guys."

Harry clutches his heart. "I am wounded, 'Mione. A word of warning: I plan to match you in the exams this year. I studied like bloody mad last summer."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry continued, "Right next to Katie is Patricia Stimpson, who is the girls' friend, and that's all I know. Sorry, Patricia. Next to Hermione is Ginny Weasley, who will hex your balls off if you mention anything about how her hundreds of recent boyfriends, and across from her is Neville, who is brilliant at Herbology but is too shy to do anything else. Sorry, Nev, but it's true. Down there next to Gin is her brother, Ronald, who's been a bit of a twat recently. And this is Angelina, star Chaser and the prettiest student at this table other than me."

Everyone laughed as Angelina grinned and socked Harry on the shoulder. "I think you're the star Chaser now, Harry."

Viktor grinned and addressed her, "Is Harry your boyfriend?"

As Angelina nodded, Harry muttered loudly, "More like slave."

They laughed again before Harry said, "And this is Viktor Krum, who will most likely punch you in the face if you call him Vikky."

Viktor blinked. "Vikky? Are you ready to kiss my fist?"

Everyone laughed once again before Dumbledore stood up and tapped his goblet. He then began his speech:

"Welcome to Hogwarts, students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. And will you also welcome Ms. Olympe Maxine and Igor Karkaroff, Headmistress and Headmaster of these schools?"

Everyone politely applauded as Dumbledore continued, "Now. I'm sure most of you have heard of the TriWizard Tournament. For those who haven't, the Tournament is a set of three tasks that three students (one from each school) will compete in each. Due to numerous deaths and/or injuries, the age limit of entry has been raised to 16 years of age. To enter, a student must right their name on a slip of parchment and place it into the Goblet of Fire."

Upon saying this, a large goblet of about three feet tall materialized in front of the Head table. It lit itself, causing blue and green flames to explode forth from its depths.

"Although I must warn you; the stakes are high. Death is extremely possible, as are mortal injuries, and I'd advise you to think through it wisely before entering."

Dumbledore then continued to talk about the restrictions and the Forbidden Forest and whatnot. When he'd finished, he announced, "Enough of that! Let the Feast commence!"

Food appeared in front of them, and they all dug in.

When Harry had piled on a mountain of salad onto his plate, the Weasley twins shook their heads at him.

"Poor ickle Harry -"

"- limiting himself -"

"- to only the green side of food."

Harry smirked before beginning to eat. Viktor smiled at him.

"I admire your healthy choice, although I must say that you're missing out on a nice steak." Upon saying this, Viktor popped a piece of meat into his mouth.

Harry grinned, and the next ten minutes were spent talking and laughing and eating. Harry suddenly remembered what he wanted to ask his friend.

"Hey Viktor, when you got onto the national team, did they give you a jacket made of Lethifold skin?"

Viktor grinned and nodded, plucking at Harry's jacket. "Yes. It has helped me on many occasions, although yours is much nicer. The Bulgarian flag is an ugly clash of green and red and white."

Harry smiled and continued, "What is it resistant to?"

Viktor tapped his chin. "So far, I've found that it is resistant to most direct offensive spells, like the stupefy and expelliarmus, but it won't help against many physical things, like ropes or flying objects. It is water proof, but I don't know about fire."

Harry grinned. "Brilliant. It feels amazing."

Viktor nodded before asking, "Are there any fitness clubs here? Back at the Institute, we run every morning and have free time to swim in the lake. It is cold, but exhilarating."

Harry shook his head. "There aren't any official clubs, but I get up every morning at around seven and then do a lap or two around the lake. You can tag along if you want."

Viktor nodded. "I will. Does anyone else come?"

Harry nodded. "A pair of twins, the Patils, and Katie and Ann."

Viktor grinned. "Starting a harem, Harry?"

Harry shivered. "No way. Handling one temperamental female is enough for me."

Angelina swatted him with a smile, and Harry continued, "Where are you guys going to sleep? The guys from Durmstrang, I mean."

"We have been told to find the Fat Lady, and then turn right. They told us the password to get through the door."

Harry nodded. "The Fat Lady is the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Tomorrow morning, you can ask the Fat Lady to tell whoever is inside that you're there, and they should let you in. One of the twins isn't in Gryffindor, so you can meet with her there."

Viktor nodded, and the group continued to laugh and eat. After several minutes, Harry heard a girl clear her throat behind them. Turning with Viktor, Harry was met with a beautiful Beauxbatons girl, with magnificent curves and amazing long hair framing a fair face. Viktor's mouth opened slightly as he gazed at her, and Harry saw that the Weasley twins were gaping as well.

The girl tossed her hair and asked in a heavily accented voice, "Vill you be 'aving the boullabaise?"

No one answered, and Harry said, "No, would you like some?"

For a moment, the girl watched him, and Harry stared into her eyes. After a few moment, Harry raised an eyebrow, and she answered with a massive smile, "I vould."

Harry turned and picked up the small bowl, and then placed it into the soft hands of the girl. She beamed and said, "Thank you . . . ?"

Harry stood and smiled. "Harry. Harry Potter."

The girl grinned and put out one of her hands to shake his, but Harry smirked and took it, lifted it to his mouth, and bent over and kissed it lightly. She then said, "Thank you very much, 'Arry. I am Fleur Delacour."

Harry smiled and said, "Well, you're very much welcome, Miss Delacour."

With that, Harry turned and sat. Not knowing it, Fleur stood watching him with a broad smile still on her face before turning and walking back to the Ravenclaw table, her hips swaying with a graceful beauty.

Harry resumed his meal, oblivious to the stares around him. He looked up, and said, "What are you guys looking at?"

Angelina punched him in the arm, and Harry flinched and grumbled, "What's that for?"

His girlfriend mock-glared at him. "That's for flirting with a pretty French witch."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I wasn't flirting -"

He was cut off when Angelina leaned in and pressed her lips against his. "And that's for not giving in to her allure."

Harry looked around at the boys, who's eyes were slightly glazed over. "What do you mean?"

One of the twins shook his head in amazement. "Blimey, Harry, do you know who that was?"

Harry shook his head and glanced at Viktor. He, too, was staring at him with a slightly dumfounded expression. Down the line, Ronald was still staring at the girl, his mouth hanging open.

Without waiting for his answer, the other twin continued, "That was a Veela, Harry."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh! That explains the pull. When I talked to her, I felt like I should hug her, but it wasn't anything major. It felt like there was a breeze on my face. I just ignored it."

Viktor whistled. "Harry, that's not what we felt. I felt like I should tell her that I was a superstar, and I wanted to do something amazing to win her approval."

The Weasley twins agreed. Harry shrugged and started eating again. "Whatever. It probably has something to do with what Madam Pomfrey told me in Second year, when I'd broken my arm and the idiot, Lockhart, tried to fix it. The douche bag ended up vanishing all of the bones in my arm, and I had to drink Skele-grow in order to get them back. Madam Pomfrey said that it should feel like my arm was exploding, but all I felt was a sharp pain in my arm."

Viktor shivered. "I had to use Skele-grow once, when I'd fallen off my broom on my first match with the Vultures. I got hit by a bludger in the foot, and it broke." Everyone shivered, bu then he continued, "It twisted me off my broom, and the referee had been too enamored by our Veela cheerleaders that he'd forgotten to freshen the cushioning charms. When I landed on the ground, the same ankle hit first, and snap!" Viktor clapped his hands, and everyone winced. "My skin broke, and a piece of bone was sticking out of my foot."

Neville looked like he was about to throw up. Viktor shivered. "They had to vanish the bone, since they couldn't push it in or pull it out. When I took the Skele-grow, it hurt more than the actual breaking."

Harry nodded. "It sucked, but in the morning when I said that it just felt like splinters, she told me that I have a high pain threshold."

Viktor looked at him. "What do you think you got it from?"

Harry's eyes darkened, and he remembered his time at the Dursleys, and how many times his arms had been broken, and how many ribs he had cracked. After a time, the pain became bearable. "I don't really wish to talk about that."

Viktor looked at Angelina, who gave him a look that said, "I'll tell you later."

After Harry stopped glaring at his plate, they continued eating, and soon finished. The food vanished, and Dumbledore announced that they had that night and the following morning to enter themselves into the Goblet.

"Are you entering, Viktor?" Harry asked, and Viktor nodded. Harry turned to Angelina as everyone began standing and leaving to their common rooms. "Are you?"

Angelina grinned and nodded. "I think that it'll be great. I probably won't get picked, but whatever. Gotta take risks and things."

Harry agreed, and soon the group of Gryffindors and Durmstrang students had made their way to the Fat Lady. When they'd said their goodbyes and 'see you in the mornings', they all went to bed to sleep in excitement for the drawing the next day.

**OooOooO**

When he woke up the next morning, Harry found that the curtains around his bed were open, and a must, warm orange light was streaking in from the window. Harry smiled, sitting up, as he watched the rising sun low in the sky, which was (very gradually) meandering its way towards the great big blanket of dark grey clouds that spanned the entire sky.

Harry hopped out of his bed and unlatched the window, letting the cool, moist air burst forth into his dormitory. Although he knew his comrades would soon get up and protest, Harry breathed it in, tingling as goosebumps appeared on his arms. The atmosphere smelled wet, and Harry loved it. His famous time of year was spring, as the rain that came in the gallons would bring along with it its moist, pleasant smelling air.

Shutting the window, Harry proceeded to go about his morning routine. When his body was clean, he slipped on his jogging pants, t-shirt, and new jacket. With the sleek apparel snug on his body, he left his dorm and descended down the stairs and into the common room, his shoes in his hand, as he was a little late for his run with his little group.

Angelina, Katie, and Parvarti were already there, and they greeted each other. As they did, they heard the Fat Lady's voice: "Gryffs on the inside, there's a young man and lady seeking entrance."

Harry replied, "We'll be right out. Thanks."

Slipping on his sneaker, Harry, followed by the three girls, opened the door and exited past the swung-open portrait. They were met by Padma and Viktor, the former wearing her usual running clothes, and the latter wearing jogging pants and a jacket very similar to Harry's, although with diagonal stripes of red, green, and white. The small emblem also depicted to broomsticks that crossed, although underneath it was 'БHкг', which translated to the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. In addition, said jacket sported a thin hood. Gesturing for them to follow, Harry set out at a jog down the hall.

"Why does your jacket have a hood?" Harry asked his male friend after greeting him.

Viktor answered, "It is a simple modification charm. I'll show you when we get outside."

When the six reached the outdoor stone walkway that stopped at two dirt (actually, more like mud) paths, one heading towards Hagrid's Hut the other winding its way towards Black Lake, Harry stopped them. Viktor pulled out his wand from a pocket sewn into the back of his calf. Tapping it on Harry's shoulder, he intoned, "Cucullus,"

A white hood materialized at the base of Harry's neck, and he said his thanks. Glancing out at the moderate downpour, Harry said, "Viktor, let's get some warming charms on these ladies."

And the two young men did, and Angelina smirked and said, "That felt like Harry was giving me a nice rub."

Harry blushed as the others laughed. "Let's get going, you ungrateful lot." he grumbled, and soon the six were at a steady jog towards the lake, throughout which Harry marveled at his jacket's ability to keep him dry, as well as pleasantly warm.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

When they'd finished half an hour later, they all headed to the Great Hall for the morning breakfast. Piling the usual on their plates, they all began conversing as the other students began to trickle in.

Harry shook his head. "Wow. Three days in a row without having to wear those terrible school robes. It's a miracle, I say."

They all agreed as they began to finish their food. Glancing up at the still flaming Goblet, Harry noticed a pale white line snaking around the piece of metal, giving it around a three foot girth. "Are you two entering soon? You'll have to before tonight."

Angelina conjured a parchment and took out her quill and scribbled her name down. Ripping off a piece and handing it to Viktor, who accepted her quill and did the same with his name. Grabbing his hand, Angelina then got up and trotted forward to the Goblet, Viktor trailing behind. Detaching herself from Harry, his girlfriend stepped over the line, and let go of a breath she'd been holding. Looking up at the fire, Angelina reached up and flicked her paper into the fire.

As applause and cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table, Harry heard a set of voices weaving their way towards the Goblet.

"Exqueeze me -"

"coming through -"

"Gred and Forge, on the way -"

The Weasley twins walked their way to the Goblet, and took side next to Harry.

"Gred? What d'you reckon?"

"I don't know, Forge. I reckon we drink up."

Harry quickly backed away as the twins faced each other. Taking out identical flasks of a potion, they said in unison, "Bottoms up, lovely brother."

Linking their arms, they took a long swig from their respective flasks. After a moment, the two hopped sideways into the ring. After a moment's hesitation, they cheered and fist-pumped as the Gryffindor table erupted in laughs and cheers. As they both reached up, however, the line along the ground snaked their way to both boy's heels, and threw them away from the Goblet and into Harry with an "Ooof!"

Pushing them off, Harry found that the twins were now sporting identical grey beards, and they noticed too. Looking at each other, they said,

"Gred?"

"Yeah, Forge?"

"I do believe that the puberty bunny has finally whacked us with it harry bump of a tail."

"I do believe you're right, Forge. But the question is, where else have we been affected?"

The two boys froze as the Great Hall howled with laughter, and the twins made a show of checking inside their pants before rushing out of the Hall.

After several minutes, Viktor also entered his name, to the polite applause of the Durmstrang students at the Gryffindor table.

When they'd finished conversing about the events to come, the group of friends broke off to go to their own activities for the rest of the day. For Padma and Parvarti, that meant joining Lavender Brown and the other girls of the year to roam the halls and gossip about the boy of the year (mainly Harry). For Hermione, that meant finding a nice place to hunker down and read comfortably. For the four Quidditch players, that meant – well – doing all things Quidditch. Deciding to go the pitch to practice (Hermione tagging along to find a nice place in the stands to read), the rest of the group went off to grab their brooms and have a nice, cool, moist day, filled with flying.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The morning flew by, as did lunch. When lunch ended, Angelina posted in the Great Hall the official teams for the inter-school Quidditch tournament.

_Inter-School Quidditch Tournament_

_(positions on field in written order)_

_1st Team_

_Chasers: Harry Potter (A) | Angelina Johnson (C) | Marcus Flint_

_Beaters: Fred Weasley | George Weasley_

_Keeper: Grant Page_

_Seeker: Cedric Diggory_

_Reserves/Substitutes_

_Chasers: Heidi Macavoy | Roger Davies (C) | Ginny Weasley_

_Beaters: Lucian Boyle | Peregrine Derek_

_Keeper: Herbert Fleet (A)_

_Seeker: Cho Chang_

Harry had grinned and asked, "Didn't Ginny try out for Seeker? And what does the (C) and (A) mean?"

To which Angelina had answered, "The (C) means the first captain, and the (A) means the alternate captain, in case the first gets injured. I made Ginny a Chaser because while you were engrossed in our excellent snog, Ginny was helping some of the younger Chasers like a champ. She was very good."

And so that was that. Draco once again complained about not making onto even the reserve team ("Stupid mudblood-lover favoritism!"), as did others, but as it was looked over and approved by Madam Hooch, there was nothing they could do.

And for the rest of the day, up until six o'clock, several Quidditch players joined the previous group and the payed several scrimmages. Afterwards, they all freshened up to get ready for the Drawing.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The Goblet, flaming as always, shone dramatically at the center of the Great Hall. Harry and his Durmstrang and Gryffindor friends looked up at it apprehensively. Everyone was slowly trickling into the Hall, but their apprehension was interrupted when a swarm of owls swooped in and dropped their cargo onto the students.

Harry's bundle contained three letters and a bundle of newspaper. Harry set down the the letters and glanced at the newspaper and its main headline.

_International Quidditch News_

_Two Young Stars At Puddlemere?_

_Two days ago, the monthly conference was held at Young Trafford Quidditch stadium. Although previous meetings were rather bleak, this one was filled with excitement. Held before the Under 17 English National Team, those attending were Viktor Krum (17), arguably the best Seeker in the world and playing for the Vratsa Vultures, and none other than Harry Potter (14), the Boy-Who-Lived. To answer the questions that undeniably popped into your heads, here are the questions asked during the meeting._

_Q: (Potter): When did you become Chaser? Were you not playing as Seeker at Hogwarts?_

_A: I was, up until this year. Over the summer, I exercised and was able to fill out a bit. When I went back to Hogwarts to try out for the inter-house team, I found that though I was stronger, my movements were slower. I decided to try and play as a Chaser because my father was, and I'm a bit too – erm – large for the Seeker position now._

_Q: (both): Have either of you been approached by other major clubs, or in Potter's case, your first?_

_A: (Krum): I will be moving to Puddlemere United in the summer, as the Vultures feel that with the Transfer money they make with me, they can build a stronger team all around._

_A: (Potter): I, too, have been approached by Puddlemere, and will most likely be moving there this summer. Although I am not 15 yet, I may be an emancipated adult, and I will check during the winter holidays._

_Q (both): What are your religious views?_

_A: (Krum): It is my understanding that most magical peoples are Christian, although they do not practice. I share these views._

_A: (Potter): I've never really given it much though, but what I will say is that though I respect the Judeo-Christian ethic, along with the Eastern pihlosophies and, of course, the teachings of Muhammad, I've found that organized religion has corrupted those beliefs, to justify countless atrocities through history. Were I to title myself to a certain religion, I'd be a hypocrite. Thus, you can call me a nonreligious with morals. Or a handsome atheist._

_Further questions can be found on the paper Teen Witches Weekly._

_Mr. Potter also received the U17 ENQT jersey today, and Mr. Krum will receive his in the summer. Afterwards, our crew was able to stay and watch Mr. Potter practice with his first national team, and were amazed at his skill. Here is a short interview on Harry with Joe Jaffney, captain of the team._

_"_What do I think of Potter? He's brilliant. He's the youngest in the squad, but probably one of the best; he could easily be picked up by any of the clubs. With even more practice, he could even rival Porskoff._" Jaffney stated._

_For our readers that aren't aware, Petrova Porskoff is, by far, the best Chaser to have ever lived, and is credited with inventing the popular Quidditch tactic the Porskoff Ploy. She and Josef Wronski (Seeker), who is credited with using the Wronksi Feint, dominated the league fifty years ago when they were with the Grodzisk Goblins. Porskoff and Wronksi now own one of the largest broom companies in the world._

_For more information on top Quidditch players of the early 1900s, read page 3._

Harry grinned at the article, thankful that they didn't include some of the more personal questions. Glancing over at Angelina's paper, he found that the same article was published in the Daily Prophet, too. However, he spotted something peeking out from under the paper, and he craned his neck.

"Er – Angelina – what's that?" Harry asked. Angelina looked over the Prophet at the poking corner, and she quickly pushed some excess paper over it.

"Nothing." She said quickly. "Nothing at all."

Katie glanced over at it. "Oh, that's Teen Witches Weekly, that is. Don't worry, every girl has it."

And as she said this, Harry shifted in his seat, aware of at least a quarter of the female population looking at him with a hungry eye. They'd probably read the question that explained how Harry would break up with Angelina soon . . .

Harry glared down at his other letters, furiously trying not to blush under the eyes. Picking up the first letter and cutting it open, he read,

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We, at Firebolt CO, offer you a payment 15,000 galleons a game in exchange that you play with our newest models. If you are able to score at least 150 points against the Netherlands, we'll raise the offer to 30,000._

_Please send us a confirmation letter, and we'll reply with the contract. Enclosed now is a packet detailing our products._

_Please answer swiftly,_

_P. Porskoff and J. Wronski, CEOs of the Firebolt Franchise._

Harry's grin returned as he looked over the paper once more, and Viktor looked over his shoulder.

"I'd take it, Harry. Those CEOs were the best in the world, and their brooms are, too."

"What's their newest model?" Harry asked, setting the letter down and picking up the other.

"It's the Aquilam. Far faster than the Firebolt, but roughly the same control." Viktor answered as Harry read the next letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We hope that this letter has made it to you faster than the others. We offer you a payment of 20,000 galleons a match to wear our apparel under you Quidditch robes and on your feet, and we will raise it to 27,500 if you score at least 100 points against Holland this weekend._

_Enclosed is a brochure, detailing our products, and a free beanie._

_Please answer swiftly,_

_R. Plumpton Jr., CEO of SAMA._

Harry glanced into the envelope again and sure enough, there was a neatly folded up white hat, of an even lighter material than his jacket. He studied it before slipping into his pocket.

Cutting open the last letter, he first noticed the crest that locked the flap to the envelope. It was sealed with a small wax picture depicting to wands crossing with a small stalk of what Harry had learned to be barley. Harry took out the parchment and read,

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_On behalf of House Greengrass, I formally invite you to our Yuletide feast on the 10th of December, to discuss present events, among other things. We hope you send us a swift reply._

_- Damien Greengrass, Head of House Greengrass, Ambassador to France, occupant of the Greengrass seat in the Wizengamot, etc., etc._

Harry shivered. This man was obviously Daphne's father, and meant business. Of course he would attend: after all, he was not only the father to his betrothed, but also an esteemed member of society, if all of his titles meant anything.

He tucked all of his letters into an inner pocket of his jacket and focused his attention back up to the Goblet, where Dumbledore now stood, raising his hands to signal silence.

"Dear students, tonight is the night on which we will select who will be participating in the TriWizard tournament!" He announced loudly, and then was met by the cheers of the assembled students.

"I once again warn you all – the Tasks are not simply challenges. They are tests of strengths and weaknesses, and will stretch your resources to the max. And although the prize is bountiful, it is nothing compared to the cost of a human life."

This statement was met with silence, a grim understanding coming over the students. After several moments, Dumbledore raises his hands and puts out all the fires and lights in the Hall, leaving a grey light to wash over them all, and the Goblet emitting its blue and green glow over all of the like water.

Dumbledore touched his hands to the Goblet, and after a moment, let go. The flame burst forth, a small piece of parchment shooting out of its depths. Dumbledore (with surprising reflexes and coordination) snapped his hand out and snatched it from the air. He unfolded it and announced, "The Beauxbatons champion . . . is Fleur Delacour!"

The air was filled with the cheers and whoops of the delegation from the French school, and the Veela rose out of her seat and walked up to Dumbledore, her hips swaying. Dumbledore patted her shoulder and gestured towards the Head table, and she went down the stairs behind it.

Dumbledore repeated the process, and when he'd grabbed the paper, he read out, "The Durmstrang champion . . . is Viktor Krum!"

Harry whooped and slapped Viktor's back as the Bulgarian got up from his seat next to him. After a nod to Dumbledore, he was off down the stairs.

Dumbledore once again touched the Goblet, and now Harry felt a grim apprehension. Something was going to happen, but it wouldn't work in Harry's favour.

Dumbledore read off the still smoking paper, "The Hogwarts champion is . . . Angelina Johnson."

She jumped up onto her feet, clapping and cheering as most of Hogwarts clapped and whooped. After bending over to kiss Harry's cheek, she practically skipped over to Dumbledore and then down the stairs.

Dumbledore turned and addressed them all. "Now, the three champions will be rated by the judges, which includes myself, Professor Karkaroff, Professor Maxine, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch, on a scale of one to ten. There will be 5 Tasks -"

Suddenly, Dumbledore stumbled forward as the Goblet's flames rose three feet higher. Everyone turned, wide-eyed, as the Goblet emitted a faint screech and the fire turned green. A slip of something shot out, but instead of parchment, this what looked like a green leather strip, and Harry could barely see that something was etched onto its softer inside. Dumbledore, stunned, let it fall to the floor as the Hall watched in apprehension.

He recovered quickly and stood and took it, and stared at it for some time. After almost a full minute, Dumbledore said quietly, "Harry Potter."

Harry looked up, stunned, as Dumbledore said louder, "Harry Potter."

Harry looked to his friends for support, but they were just as surprised as he was. Slowly, Harry stood up and walked towards the Goblet, but instead of heading towards the stairs, Harry snatched the slip away from an astounded Dumbledore and studied the material. It was green, hard, and smooth.

It was remarkably similar to a certain Basilisk hide.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Rage formed in splotches in Harry's mind as he stormed his way into the trophy room. The other three champions looked up from where they were sitting, and Angelina rushed to Harry, and the other three began talking at once.

"What's happening? I heard a scream -"

"What's going on, Harry?"

"What eez happening? Are we needed in ze Great Hall?"

Harry just shrugged helplessly as several adults came in. Dumbledore was first, and the old man caught Harry by the collar and pushed him up against a glass case.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore hissed as Karkaroff, Maxine, McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Bagman, and Barty Crouch came in.

Harry's eyes narrowed and he spat, "Get off me, old man." and he gave his Headmaster a hefty shove away from him. "I was with my friends the whole time we were to enter our names!"

Dumbledore glared back at him. "Did you have an older student put it in for you?"

Harry growled. "Fucking no!"

McGonagall stared at him. "Language, Mr. Potter."

Harry rounded on her. "Shut up! I should be able to swear right now. After all, I'm pretty much set up to die!"

Maxine stepped in. "Vat are you talking about? Of course you entered in, you want the wealth and the glory!"

Harry glared at her. "I already have enough shit going on right now to enter into this stupid competition. I'm already too fucking rich, and my fame is on the rise! Not that I give _two shits about it_!"

The trophies shook as Harry's magical aura expanded. Dumbledore immediately attempted to reprimand him. "All the evidence points to you, my boy. Who else is to blame? This hide is from the basilisk you killed in second year-"

At this, all the others looked shocked, but Harry was in the zone now. "Old man, you've studied me for more than three years, and you know that I don't want more on my fucking plate."

"Watch your mouth, Potter!" Snape spat. "Ever since you've come to this school, you stick your large, egotistical head in places it doesn't belong! Every class, you make some disruption to seek attention -"

"_You know nothing about me!_" Harry roared, stepping forward, causing Dumbledore to back away. "You're too caught up in your stupid grudge against my father! But here's a news flash, you greasy haired git! _I'm not my father_!"

Dumbledore quietly used his magic to enhance his strength a little and stepped forward to grab Harry, but the boy slapped his arm away.

"Don't fucking touch me, old man! All I wanted this year was a normal school year! Where I could focus on my grades, Quidditch, and maybe a few girls, too! But no, every year some fucking shit comes up, and I have to deal with it! First, it was a three-headed dog and Professor Quirrel who I had to kill. Then it was a fucking basilisk that I had to stab, and I was already under speculation of being a Dark Wizard! And then there was last year, where I was told that a serial killer was seeking my death, but was actually my godfather who was wrongly accused who _you_ sent off to Azkaban without a trial! But one of your biggest fuck-ups was this year. You just happened to forget to mention that there was a marriage contract hanging over my head that YOU were responsible for! But the _biggest _mistake you've made was forcing me to stay with my relatives for ten years, _who beat me every day_! _Fuck you_!" Harry screamed, storming forward and grabbing Dumbledore's collar.

"Listen, Dumb-as-a-bloody-door. If o_ne more preventable thing_ happens to me that puts me or my friends in danger, I will be transferring to Durmstrang next year. Have a good fucking night."

Harry wrenched his hands away from Dumbledore's throat, pushed past the others, and when he reached Snape, he shoved him out of the way. With that, he slammed the door behind him, and was gone.

The room was met with silence. After a minute, Moody barked out a harsh laugh, and Maxine looked at Dumbledore. "Eez eet true, Dumbly-dore? What he said?"

Dumbledore covered his face in his hands and breathed out slowly through his nose, knowing that transparency was required at this stage. "Every word."


	5. Part One: Chapter Five

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**WARNING: In this chapter, there is a detailed account of some gruesome child abuse in the middle of the chapter. You will be warned, and you can skip ahead if you'd like. I myself did not enjoy writing such a horrible, albeit fictional, account of abuse.**

Chapter 5: Fear and Weakness

Although the trip to his common room was uneventful (all other students had retired to their dorms), Harry didn't enjoy it in the least. After he'd stormed out, he'd seen a blue beetle on the ground and had enjoyed his time taking a few stomps at it, but missed every time until it flew away.

Still smoldering, he had stormed out of the Great Hall and properly slammed through the doors. By this time, Harry was seriously considering bumping Dumbledore nearer to the top of his (what he now called) his nemesis list.

These thoughts kept him from realizing that he had reached the Fat Lady. Look up, he scowled at her, and she looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and a strange, almost sympathetic expression on her face. "I'd be careful, Potter. You're friends aren't too happy that you were picked, either."

Harry scowled up at her, his eyebrows lowering and coming together. "If they aren't happy, then they aren't my friends."

The Fat Lady looked at him for a moment, nodded, and opened up. The quiet murmuring on the inside ceased, and there was silence as Harry stepped in, and was immediately confronted by Angelina, who hugged him, talking fiercely and loud enough for everyone (it looked like the whole house was out of bed and in the common room) to hear.

"Harry I know you didn't put your name in -" but she was interrupted by Ron.

"Come off it! Of course he put his name in! He's been an arse all year!" To that, people had begun to nod, but stopped when Ron added the last phrase. 'Harry hasn't been a bad bloke, but who else would have put in his name?' were the thoughts of all others.

Harry glared at him before hugging Angelina. "Listen, Ann. I didn't put my name in, but I'm forced to compete. I read about the Goblet, and it doesn't matter if they're the ones who put their name in or not. Normally, an underage name wouldn't be picked, but the cup was most likely rigged -"

"Yeah. By you!." Ron scowled, reaching the front and nearing Angelina. "If you didn't do it, swear on your magic!"

There were intakes of breaths around the room, and Hermione hissed, "Ron! How could you ask that?"

Harry nudged Angelina over so that he could confront Ron, and he said, "I shouldn't have to. This may not be Hufflepuff, but I'd expect you would all be at least a little loyal, and maybe grateful. You all know that I've never bragged, but now I might as well. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead. You'd be dead. You'd be dead."

And so Harry went on, pointing out all of the Muggleborns, and at the end, Ginny. "But, of course, you've all forgotten that none of you have thanked me or even somehow paid me back. Why? Because I've never asked for it."

Getting nose to nose with Ron, and Harry growled, "I shouldn't HAVE to swear on my magic. Even if I did, I could still lose my magic, because what if someone had Imperiused me into somehow hoodwinking the cup and entering my name?"

Ron snorted. "We just studied the Unforgivables in class, Potter. You'd remember if you were Imperiused."

Harry continued, "Not if I'd been obliviated. Actually, that's another goddamn stupid thing about this school." Gesturing to all the girls, he bellowed, "Every single one of the female students here is in danger of being molested or raped. After all, if you're any good at Obliviating, you can even insert false memories into their heads."

Harry whipped his head back at Ron. "But we're going off subject. If, somehow, you can snatch some Veritaserum from Snape's private stores, you can use it on me, if you wish."

Ron's eye sparkled with hate and an idea. "I think that's a good idea."

Harry stared him down for a moment more before turning and taking Angelina's hands. "Listen, Ann. I really like you, and I'm very proud of your beginning Quidditch career. But we're going to have to go separate ways."

Angelina smiled sadly and a tear formed in her eyes, and she cupped Harry's face. Harry sighed slowly through his nose. "I'm really sorry, but if we're together, then you'll become a target to other people who don't like how my name somehow came out. That, and there's also my little 'magic paper' problem, and I need to start working at it. It's time that I really faced it. But I hope we can stay friends after this."

Angelina laughed slightly at his code name for the Contract, but she nodded slowly. Bringing his head forward, they shared one last kiss before Harry pushed through the crowd and up to the boy's dormitories.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Friday was easily one the worst school days of Harry's life. Without the company of a girlfriend, Harry slowly lapsed into a sad state, although kept his cool. He was still great friends with Viktor, Neville, Luna, Angelina, Katie and Padma, as they decided that he hadn't put his name in; they were the ones running with him when he had supposedly entered himself.

However, they were missing Hermione and Padma's twin. For reasons unknown, the former gave up sitting near Harry and instead began to sit with Ron, which caused Harry to feel a little twinge in his heart. After all, Hermione was one of his first friends, and his first female one at that. She would be missed.

On the other hand, Parvarti decided to break ties with Harry because her best friend, Lavender Brown, had a huge crush on a certain git redhead. Thus, Parvarti decided to abandon her sister and running group to go off giggling with her friend again. This had not affected Harry much, but he was slightly saddened at the blow to his little group.

The classes had actually endured much change. Although it was strange, Professor McGonagall would often pursue her lips whenever Harry managed to cast the first (very good) spell. Harry suspected that she wanted to give him house points and compliment him, but decided against it at the last moment.

During these classes, Harry sat with Neville, and he discovered that although he was shy, Neville was pretty clever and was absolutely stunning at Herbology. When Neville failed to cast a Transfiguration spell, Harry immediately advised him to get a new wand.

"But – this was my father's, and my grandmother -" He had stammered.

"Forget it, Nev. You can use it as a secondary wand, and if you tell your grandmother that you could be getting EE's in every class if you got a new one, she'd be okay with it. In fact, over the Christmas break, I'm going to the Alley, and I'd be happy if you could come with."

Neville had immediately agreed, and decided that yes, his wand did seem to be holding him back.

Charms went much the same way, but Potions was much more . . . unexpected.

Stepping into the class (first one in), Harry noticed that Snape was eyeing him with a carefully hidden, barely noticeable confused expression. Harry had looked up at him into his dark eyes and held the contact for several seconds, and immediately felt – something – against his mind. Realizing it was him, Harry pushed forward his memories of running, and then going into the Great Hall and being genuinely surprised at his name popping out of the Goblet. In several seconds, Snape had stored the information in his mind, and then nodded to the young student once.

Harry quickly sat down in the row to the far right, where he was isolated from where the Gryffindors would undoubtedly be sitting. Neville quickly followed, and soon the whole class had filed in.

"Today, we will be brewing Girding Potion. Who knows what it can be used for?"

Glancing around the room, Snape found that no one had raised their hand except a bushy-haired Gryffindor. He was then shocked to find that his nemesis's son was raising his hand calmly, and Snape studied him. There was a determined expression on the boy's face, as if he was saying, 'Come on, then. I'll show you what I've got now.'

Snape calmly thought before he spoke and said, "Mr. Potter?", being careful to not use just the boy's last name.

As the girl flashed an angry glare in the brat's direction, the boy said calmly, "Girding Potion can be used to increase one's endurance for several weeks at a time. However, the maximum dosage is two vials, for if you drink any more you can either enter into a coma or be particularly rowdy for almost a month."

Snape waited for a minute, and said quietly, "Acceptable definition. Five points to Gryffindor."

As everyone blinked in shock, Snape continued with the instructions, and then wrote the instructions on the board. After telling everyone to get to work, Snape went back into his chair and gazed off into the distance, his eyes glassing over slightly. Harry decided that he was reviewing the memories given to him.

Harry and Neville went through the steps, and the former found that Neville was quite decent at Potions when he didn't have a hook-nosed professor bending over him. They made little mistakes, and by the end, when it was supposed to turn a bright green, the boys found that their potion was, indeed, a slightly dark, but nevertheless close, green.

Snape abruptly got up and went through their Potions as the students waited nervously. Saving Neville and Harry for last, Snape went walked through the aisles, but was considerably quieter. There was only the occasional, "You ignorant boy. Never forget to add the doxy eggs." or something of the kind. When he reached Hermione's potion, Snape found a slightly more green turquoise mix. He only said, "Barely acceptable. I believe the Weasley heated up your potion only around five minutes too long while you had your nose stuck in a book. Five points from Gryffindor for not helping your classmate." To that, Hermione scowled at Ron, who shrugged, as if to say, 'He said it was your fault, so it's your fault.'

Upon reaching Harry, Snape said absolutely nothing. Instead, he just said quietly, "You stopped heating it around thirty seconds before the precise time. Nevertheless, this potion would grant the user around 5 days of extra endurance. I noticed you didn't blow anything up this time, Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor."

After he had bottled each of the potions for further testing, he said, "You are all dismissed except for Mr. Potter. Please stay behind a moment."

Dumbfounded, Harry stayed whilst the other went on to Herbology. Snape gestured him towards his desk before saying, "I see that you didn't put your name in, Mr. Potter. But do you think that you could manage a favor from me?"

Harry blinked. "A favor?"

Snape rolled his eyes for a second. "Why do the young people of these generations invariably answer a question with a question?"

Harry had grinned a little and said, "I expect that it's because we're young and ignorant brats."

Snape's lip curled slightly, forming a cross between a smile and a grimace. "Indeed. I'd like you to gift me your memories of some of your previous Potions classes. I've realized -"

Snape grimaced a bit, and then continued, "- I've realized that I've been a bit harsh on you lot."

Harry looked him in the eye and said, "Sure, Professor, I'll do it. But I'm honestly glad that you've seen that I'm not my father." Leaning forward, Harry said quietly, "In fact, I think you also see that my mother's qualities are coming out as well."

Snape stared into the boy's green eyes and sighed. "I have seen. Here." He said, handing Harry a small bowl. "This is a pocket pensieve. Just think up a memory, tap your head, and then put it into the bowl. You can give it to me on Monday."

Harry nodded, taking the bowl and pocketing it. "Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded and waved him away. But before he left, Harry added, "Professor? I'd like to give you a warning. I think that Ronald is planning on stealing some things from your potions stores in the near future."

Snape's lip curled again. "Thank you for the warning, Mr. Potter. I'll be sure to add a few special wards to it tonight."

But before Harry had reached the door, he heard Snape call something out behind him.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned around, and Snape said emotionlessly, "You have your mother's eyes, but you must know that the same things are not stored behind them."

Harry blinked and left, promising to remember that so he could think it over later.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

However, instead of heading to Defense, Harry went the opposite direction, back into the castle, towards his Head of House's classroom. Upon reaching it, Harry knocked quietly to be answered by a voice saying, "Come in."

Stepping in, Harry found a large group of first years all just beginning to sit down. Ahead was a grey and tabby cat, sitting at her desk. Harry grinned and walked up to it, and said loudly, "Professor, can I speak to you for a moment?"

For a few seconds, the first years just stared at the Boy-Who-Lived thinking, 'Is he crazy?', until the cat pounced off the desk and morphed into the Gryffindor Head of House, who mock-glared at Harry.

"You ruined the surprise, Mr. Potter. What is it that you need? You're late for your next class." She asked, and Harry answered, "I'd like to talk with you about a class change."

After a pause, McGonagall nodded and said, "Well, first I'll give these first years a proper introduction. You can wait at my desk, yes?"

Harry nodded and did so, and McGonagall proceeded to instruct the first years on turing a matchstick into a needle. When she'd finished, she went and sat across Harry and asked, "A class change, you say? Which one, and why?"

Harry leaned forward and stated, "I'd like to drop Divination, Professor. I've found out that I've only been taking it for an easy 'O', and that the teacher is bonkers, and the class is rubbish."

McGonagall fought to keep a smirk off her face. "Many here share your sentiment, Mr. Potter. What would you like to replace it with?"

"Erm – Ancient Runes, ma'am. In the future, I'd like to be a professional Quidditch player for around half a decade, and then become either an Auror or something else like that, and then maybe become a Professor here. I've heard that there's a special branch of Aurorship that requires Ancient Runes."

McGonagall smiled at him. The young Potter's future indeed looked promising. "You are half-correct. There are several levels of Aurorship, starting with Trainee, then Novice, then Auror, then Solo Auror, and lastly Veteran. The Solo Auror can only be achieved if you get at least an 'EE' in Ancient Runes."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Okay. Can I switch?"

McGonagall nodded. "Absolutely. Even though you're a year behind, with your newfound determination in classes, I think you'll be able to get up onto their level. I'll give you your new schedule next week. Also, here's a pass for your next class, to get out of punishment."

Harry nodded his thanks, took the slip of paper being handed to him, and quickly left as the first years hopelessly stabbed their wands toward their matchsticks, muttering the incantation.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The last class of the morning was Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class that Harry had mix feelings about. The first class had been somewhat of a strange experience, what with Harry losing his temper. Harry tilted his head as he walked into to the class under the watchful eye of Moody. He'd have to make another list, along with his nemesis list. Something that would help him organize his biggest fears or weaknesses. For some reason, those two seemed to collide more often than not.

Harry plopped down alongside Neville as several Slytherins trickled in, one of which was to be a big part in Harry's life. As he caught the girl's eyes, they narrowed and looked away quickly. Harry blinked. They had been on talking turns earlier in the week; what had changed?

Moody began his teaching as the class settled in. "Alright, class, I think we've covered enough Unforgivables in our last class than we'll need all year."

He laughed quietly at the memory as a few heads turned to Harry, reminded of what had happened.

"Today, we'll be learning about boggarts. Yes, Granger?"

Hermione whipped her hand from the air and said tartly, "Professor, we learned about boggarts last y -"

"I am aware of that, Granger." Moody said. "We're reviewing them because I'd like to know what some of your biggest fears are." He cast his eyes around the room, and his magical one rested on Harry longer than he'd liked. "It'll be necessary with my . . . style of teaching."

Harry shivered slightly. What was his biggest fear? Was it still dementors? No; at the thought of the black-cloaked beasts, he no longer cringed. He had a defense against the monsters, and so his fear had dissipated.

As he pondered, Moody was saying, "Get up and clear the desks to the side of the room – yes, like that. Now, form a line. No pushing! I know how eager all of you are to face your deepest and darkest nightmares."

Moody kicked forward a large wooden chest with his metal foot that he favored. "Alright, who's first? Granger! You ready?"

"I think – EEK!" Hermione squealed as the form of Dumbledore stepped out of the chest, looking forlorn. He said in a low voice, "I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but I'm afraid that we'll have to expel you, because you are not as smart as Mr. Potter here."

She shrieked, and tears began falling from her face, but she managed to squeal, "_Riddikulus_!" before sprinting into the back of the classroom. Dumbledore was now in a woman's dress, stumbling on high heels. 'So Granger was afraid of being bested by others?' Harry mused. 'Maybe that's why she's not a very good friend . . .'

Draco Malfoy sauntered up next, and Dumbledore's beard extended and created a cocoon; and out of the cocoon strolled a pale, red-eyed, snake faced Voldemort. As Malfoy's eyes widened, the image sneered and pulled out his wand, but Malfoy was able to squeak the incantation, causing the Voldemort to disappear in a puff of pink perfume.

Several more students walked up and dispelled their fear. With every step Harry took forward, the more anxious he got. What exactly would pop up?

Soon, he was in front of what was a massive snake with lipstick on and googley eyes. For a terrifying second, the lipstick disappeared and the snake stood frozen, seemingly contemplating Harry, who was drawing his wand. Suddenly, the snake reared back, and began swirling.

A blanket of fog hung itself around the whole room, and in front of Harry (for the whole class to watch) seemed to be something like a television screen. From that television screen appeared a little boy with messy black hair and green eyes, who was whimpering and holding his left arm that was bent almost in its opposite direction, in complete darkness. Several students retched behind him, and Harry was frozen in place. Not because he was scared, but because he remembered it. Suddenly, the television was filled with light, and a hand grabbed the boy's arm and wrenched him out of the dark space. Harry found himself watching his younger self in the hallway of Privet Drive, his Uncle Vernon over him.

"Think you could snitch to your teachers, boy?" Vernon spat. Harry's breath hitched in his throat, and behind him, the students were looking on in terror and disgust. "They don't give a damn, and NEITHER DO I!"

Younger Harry moaned and grabbed his arms as his Uncle tightened his grip on it. "Boy, no one will EVER KNOW!"

Younger Harry began screaming as the fat man brought his dominant hand down on his head, over and over again, until his lip was split and his nose was bleeding profusely. One of his ribs were broken from a carefully aimed kick, and several of his fingers were broken from failed attempts to shield himself. Vernon wrenched the boy's injured arm one more time and threw him into what Older Harry identified to be his cupboard.

The man's final word was, "Your parents abandoned you for us to take care of. They'd be ashamed of what a weakling you turned out to be."

The door slammed shut, but the screen was still filled with a seething Vernon, his knuckled coated with blood. Suddenly, Vernon's eyes snapped forward to Harry and the class. The man grabbed the sides of the television, wrenched it back, and climbed out. Soon, a life-sized Dursley was breathing heavily in front of Harry's face. Harry couldn't breath, and fumbled for his wand, although he knew the boggart couldn't touch him.

He was wrong.

Suddenly, Vernon reached out and grabbed Harry's throat, lifting him up off the ground. Harry, caught by surprise, gasped and reached up with both his hands, his wand falling helplessly to the floor. The thick hand tightened itself, and Harry saw spots.

Then, Vernon was blown back with a, "Stupefy!" from a woman in the crowd. Harry crumpled to the floor, still scrabbling at his neck and dry heaving. Said woman marched past Harry and pointed her wand at the man, who was eyeing Harry greedily. Upon noticing the woman, Vernon scrambled for the box, but the woman ordered, "_Riddikulus_!" and the boggart was thrown back again, head over heels, morphing into a swirl of different things. The woman swept her wand towards the chest, and the boggart was thrown into it, the lid snapping tight upon it.

The woman (identified to be Professor McGonagall) immediately swept towards a still heaving Harry. Moody limped after her.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall almost screeched. Moody's face was that of helpless and confused.

"I don't know, Minerva!" Moody said quickly. "The boggart shouldn't have been able to touch Potter!"

McGonagall tapped Harry's throat and he was suddenly able to breathe, his throat opening up again. Harry took in several rattling gasps as he regained the air he'd lost from his lungs.

"What was that?" McGonagall hissed. Hermione was the one that spoke up.

"That man was his Uncle, I saw him at King's Cross -"

"Not him." McGonagall said. "What were the images before him? Were they just thoughts, or did they actually happen?"

Harry said nothing, but he did sit up, rubbing a spot on his lower left bicep, his eyes red. McGonagall waited for an answer, but Harry said nothing. Instead, the boy stood up and limped back through the crowd of terrified students, side-stepping puddles of vomit and rasped, "I'm done."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

For the next class, Harry was not present, and no one could locate him. Word didn't spread around in the wildfire that many expected; it stayed within the fourth year level, but by the next day almost the whole school would hear of it.

Neville noticed Harry's absence first and, after excusing himself from Herbology by pretending the need for the loo, he went and found Viktor out on the Quidditch Pitch. Neville waved him down and informed him of what happened, and the professional Quidditch player immediately set out looking for his friend.

It took them nearly half an hour, but the two did manage to locate him near the lake, next to a large oak tree. However, Harry was sitting up against the tree or anything of the like; he was smashing his fists against it with all the strength he could muster.

Viktor quickly ran forward and restrained Harry's arms, backing him away from the tree, who had a small spot on its trunk where there was no bark. Harry's knuckles were skinned and dripping with blood, and the fresh yellow wood on the tree was smudged with red.

"Harry! Stop! It's okay!" Viktor assured him. Harry still didn't let up, and was hissing with a snake-like lisp, "_Ssstupid_ relatives! Fuck Dumbledore – fuck this bloody _ssschool_ – damn Moody to hell!"

Viktor held on until Harry stopped thrashing, and the greenish light left his eyes, and the ugly snarl set on the boy's face disappeared. Breathing heavily, Harry pushed Viktor away and sat down, hard.

"Harry. What are you doing?" Viktor asked seriously, plopping down next to him. Neville did the same.

"I'm not talking about what happened in DADA, if that's what you're here for." Harry hissed, but then calmed down quickly as Viktor assured him that he wasn't.

Harry heaved out a long breath. "After the thing in Defense, I was angry – so angry. I figured that I have to let it out on something, or it'll just get bottled up inside me. That's two of my weaknesses that I've discovered. Not letting out my emotions and letting my anger make me do things I shouldn't. I figured that if I let my anger out on something but also get myself to regret it later, then I'll stop doing it."

Viktor looked down at Harry's skinned hands. "Should I . . .?"

Harry shook his sweaty hair quickly. "No, no. Don't heal them. I need to learn to regret letting my anger out."

Neville shook his head. "That's a bad idea, Harry. You could get an infection -"

"I'll heal them tomorrow morning, alright?" Harry said shortly. Having freshly punched a tree, he didn't have any anger left to get mad at his two friends.

"Let's head to the castle, alright? Hopefully, I'll have a few hours before the whole bloody school knows that I'm a pussy."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The rest of the day went smoothly, with no one confronting Harry beyond a confused or a scared look even a glimmer of sympathy. When Harry was in the halls, the fourth years before him parted ways, still trying to decipher what the fiasco in DADA had meant. While he did this, Harry also tried to avoid all teacher he could, especially McGonagall. He wasn't ready to be interrogated.

Throughout the classes, the Weasley twins let Harry know that they were on his side, saying, "That's not your style, mate." However, Hermione never once went to him; in fact, she seemed trying hard not to glance his way.

When it came time for supper, Harry (being there before his friends), went and approached a certain beautiful Veela, who had begun to eat her lunch at the Ravenclaw table.

Harry gently bent forward next to her. "I'm not taking anyone's spot, am I?"

Fleur turned and looked him up and down, assessing him. When she came up to his eyes, Harry locked their gazes together, proving without a doubt that he was, indeed, immune to her pull. She then shook her head, her soft hair waving.

"Non. Eet iz not taken." Her tone was of indifference. She was obviously keeping out emotions from her voice until she learned more about the spontaneous fourth champion.

Harry nodded gratefully and sat down, picking out all of the greens and a few meats from the table's selection. Fleur watched him carefully.

"Why are you not seeting wiz your friends?" She asked first. Harry shook his head after looking at the occupants of said table. There was Ronald, Hermione, Lavender Brown, and several first and seventh years.

"I have no friends over there." Harry said. Fleur seemed a little shocked, and then her eyebrows knit.

"You are deeferent from ze uzzers." She said, sounding almost confused. Harry rose an eyebrow.

"How so?" Harry asked, grabbing his fork and spearing a few leaves. She waited before saying, "You aren't affected by my allure."

Harry shrugged. "It's okay, I have no idea why either. Can you think up anything else?"

Fleur looked down at her companion's plate, only once glancing at his pink knuckles, skinned to the muscle. "You haave nice manners. Some of ze uzzers, like zat red haired one by you table, just grab and stuff in their mouths. Eet would never be accepted at Beauxbatons!"

Harry nodded slowly. "Anything else?"

Fleur leaned in towards him. "There are some rumors goeeng around. Sometheeng een one of your classes." After a pause, she asked, "Eez eet true, what you said in ze Trophy Room?"

Harry froze mid-chew, and slowly turned to face her. Once he'd swallowed, he stared into her eyes for a long moment. Fleur blinked rapidly.

"What eez eet you are doing?" She asked. Harry shrugged and turned back to his plate. By this time, a few other Ravenclaws were beginning to take their seats, although they turned suspicious eyes towards the Gryffindor.

"Evaluating whether or not I should trust you." Harry said, taking another bite. At this time, Viktor and Angelina and Katie had stepped into the Hall, and were looking around, searching for their black-haired friend. Once they'd spotted him at the Ravenclaw's table, they'd looked at each other, shrugged, and begun to make their way over.

Fleur blinked. This boy was continuing to surprise her. "And did I pass ze test?"

Harry nodded mutely as his friends sat next to him. "Yes, but I'm the one that's not ready."

"Harry. Are you okay?" Viktor asked seriously as he plopped down next to him. Harry turned and rose and one of his eyebrows raised.

"Why would I not be?" Harry asked, taking a long look at Angelina. She blushed as Viktor said, "Your girlfriend told Katie about what happened in the Trophy Room, and I was there, after all. And there was the Defense . . . thing."

Harry sighed. "Unfortunately, Angelina and I are no longer a set any more, for reasons I'd rather not repeat. The first time I said it, I was very sad and angry, and I'd not like to relive those feelings again. And the other thing? I've started to forget it."

Fleur looked at Angelina, who nodded sadly, and she was surprised. It was not often that a recently broken couple would be able to sit next to one another and exchange words.

Fleur blinked and finally adressed Harry's knuckles. "'Arry? What eez wrong wiz your 'ands?"

Harry flexed his fingers. "Nothing of your concern, yet."

After a moment of silence as the three newcomers got their food, Fleur asked, "I do not believe we were properly introduced. I am Fleur Delacour."

She shook each of their hands and sat back down, another silence pouring over them.

"Listen, Harry." Katie said suddenly and fiercely. "The five of us have heard what was said in the Trophy Room, and both Krum and Fleur are wondering if it's true. Hell, I'm wondering if it's true. I mean, not much information was really given on any of the subjects . . ."

Harry sighed through his nose and put down his fork. Looking out at them all, he said, "Alright. All of it was true, down to the last drop."

Viktor sighed and clapped Harry one the shoulder softly. "I am sorry, my friend. Marriage contracts are by far the worst things someone can deal with."

Harry shrugged his hand off. "Well, at least it isn't with someone I hate."

Before Viktor could open his mouth for the question, Harry had said shortly, "No, I'm not telling you who it is yet."

Viktor sighed and knit his eyebrows together. "Can I start guessing?"

Harry shrugged.

Viktor smirked. "Is he cute?"

Harry snorted in amusement at the light banter, finished his dinner, and left. Where to, his friends could only guess.

Fleur glanced at the other non-Ravenclaws at her table. "Eez he seengle?"

Said non-Ravenclaws stared at the Frenchwoman in disbelief. "I'm kidding. I'm guessing zat he eez going to spend more time wiz his betrothed."

The others looked at each other, nodded in agreement, and turned their attention back to their respective plates.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Harry quickly reached his common room to grab a necessity: the Marauder's Map. After setting his trunk up on his bed (thankful that there were no others around) he opened it and took out the piece of parchment.

Once he'd grabbed it, he murmured to it, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map burst alive with ink, mapping out the castle and the many names within it. Harry quickly located his target and set out for the lake.

Unfortunately, a peaceful walk to find his betrothed was not in the near future. When he passed the library, a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor burst out and cornered him.

"Harry, I can't believe that you broke up with Angelina! And what was that all about in DADA? You should have told us!" She cried. Her arms were full of books, and Harry quickly grew angry.

"I think you mean 'Potter'. After all, you seem to have gravitated immediately towards the red git." Harry growled. Hermione's eyebrows knit together into a glare.

"Whatever! I can't believe you broke up with her just because of the Tournament! You broke her heart! What was the thing in DADA?" She sniffed, and Harry stepped forward.

"Listen right now, Hermione. Both Angelina and I agree that what we did was for the best."

"For the best of both of you, or just you?" Hermione sneered. Harry got in her face.

"Shut up! It's not just about me and Ann! There is one more person you've left out of your important equation!"

Hermione immediately perked, her thirst for knowledge now strong. "Who? What did you mean about your paper problem?"

Harry hissed back fiercely, "It's none of your business! Hermione, it's not just Ron I've been tolerating for the last three years. You have been told this many times, but you are a know-it-all. In good ways and bad. You've helped me out of some tight spots, and I appreciate that. But you DON'T realize that you were not the leader! You constantly criticized me and my schoolwork, when you should've just accepted that that's the way I was! Sure, I probably deserved it, but you must open your eyes and see that the git and I were doing _you_ a favor, too. If it weren't for us, you'd just be the know-it-all, who sat in the back of the room, raising her hand at every question. So no, I won't tell you what it is, because it's none of your concern. Now you can go back to Ronald, who only has you as a friend for your notes and homework answers."

Hermione let out a strangled gasp and her eyes filled with tears, and she quickly scattered away. Harry mentally slapped himself. What was wrong with him? Hadn't he let out enough anger already?

Her breathed out slowly, turning away. He'd have to do some serious research on how to control his emotions and, more importantly, his mind.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The next morning, Harry got ready for his run, went downstairs and found that all original members of the group were attending, even Parvarti.

The actual run went without much interruptions and without words until near the end. They'd just finished their run and were heading towards the castle when they were met by McGonagall, who was coming from Hagrid's cabin.

The group all greeted her, and she raised an eyebrow at them. "May I ask as to what you six are doing?"

Harry responded, "We've just finished our morning run, ma'am. We've been doing this to keep in shape."

McGonagall nodded slowly. "Can you come and see me in my office after breakfast, Mr. Potter? I'd like to speak to you about making your morning runs into a formal club."

Harry quickly accepted, and they group continued on to the Great Hall. There, Parvarti branched off from them to join Lavender, and Harry went to Fleur again.

"Hello again, Ms. Delacour." Harry said. "Can I sit here?"

Fleur nodded absently; she was busy studying the group of five's attire. "Vat eez eet you are wearing?"

Harry glanced down at his running clothes as he and his friends sat down. "Er – my friends and I go running every morning, to keep in shape. This is what we wear."

Fleur grinned. "I am an athlete, back at Beauxbatons. We 'ave track and field. May I join you tomorrow?"

Harry frowned. "Unfortunately, I will not be here tomorrow, as I'll be at a Quidditch game."

Fleur blinked. "Which one are you going to watch?"

Harry grinned. "Who said anything about watching the game?"

Fleur frowned, and then grinned. "Ah! Good luck! Eez eet your first professional game?"

Harry nodded. "Also, regarding your wanting to join our runs, McGonagall is going to speak with me about making it into a club. I'll get back to you later in the day, maybe at lunch, okay?"

Fleur agreed, and the group spent the rest of their breakfast chatting about nothing.

When he'd finished, Harry went and changed into his jeans and t-shirt (it was Saturday, so no classes were in session), and proceeded to go to McGonagall's office.

When he'd reached the door, he knocked. A voice came from the inside: "Come in, Mr. Potter."

Harry pushed open the door to find several first years huddled around a desk, getting extra help on changing matchsticks into needles. They were in deep concentration, and Harry grinned at their enthusiasm.

McGonagall got his attention from her desk. "Mr. Potter, please, sit."

Harry did, and she began. "If you want, I can ask Madam Hootch to become the patron for a running club that you would run. Do you have any idea of the schedule?"

Harry thought about it. "I'd try and hold it every day, and if I can't, Viktor can take my place. Once he goes back to Durmstrang, Angelina and Katie can run it."

McGonagall nodded, scribbling things down on a parchment. "Yes . . . yes . . . alright! I'll get back to you for the arrangements before lunch today. I'll see you in the Great Hall."

Harry grinned and nodded. "Thanks, Professor."

The rest of the day went by in a flash. McGonagall got back to him and told him that Madam Hootch had accepted, and that the club would start tomorrow, and that they should start spreading the word and hanging up posters. So that's what they did; they went about the school, putting sticking charms on the backs of copied pieces of parchments that explained what the club was. The parchments also updated themselves, so they would change and say when the next practice was, or if anyone couldn't go or not. They only took a break from the poster hanging to eat lunch, where Fleur decided to join them.

After dinner, Harry was just getting up to leave dinner when a large tawny owl flew in from the windows, and dropped a letter on his lap. Harry cut it open and looked through it.

_Dear Harry,_

_The international match vs the Netherlands will start at 1:30 PM tomorrow and go on for an estimated time of around 3 hours. Enclosed within this letter is a feather. That is the portkey to get to the training stadium, which is where the International Quidditch Board have decided tha game to be held. We will expect you to be at the fields by 9:30 to get warmed up with the squad._

_Please be punctual,_

_Joe Jaffney, Captain of the U17 ENQT squad_

Harry felt a pit of excitement and nervousness build up in his chest as he passed the letter to Viktor, who passed it to Angelina, and so on and so on.

Harry groaned. "Ugh. I'm so nervous."

"Don't be, Harry!" Katie exclaimed. "You're brilliant! While you're out there, we'll see of we can get ahold of a radio from Professor McGonagall so we can listen.

Harry shifted nervously before heading out of the Great Hall and up to his dormitory, eager to get a good night's sleep, but finding it hard from the adrenaline already pumping through his veins.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Harry was at the fields almost half an hour before he was due. He ended up at the same spot where he had first keyed, but instead of the brilliant sunshine at his last visit, it was a dreadfully gloomy day, although no rain was falling. However, Harry loved it; the coolness of the air made his bones shake with excitement.

He made his way towards the men's locker rooms, and found that no one was there yet. So he changed into his training robes, grabbed one of the Firebolts from a rack, and zoomed out to get a few warm up shots in.

After fifteen minutes, several players began snapping into appearance below him. Harry continued to practice, and after another fifteen minutes, a few other Chasers (one of which was Vang) went up and played a mock-match with him. Vang was grinning the whole time – apparently, she had taken a liking to him, in a mutual respect kind of way.

After five more minutes, Joe called them all down. They all flew down, and Joe told them to shut up.

"Alright, guys, first international match of the season! The problem is, it's undoubtedly going to rain today -" (he glared up at the sky) "- but other than that, there haven't been any problems. Now, here's the squad lineup -"

He handed out a piece of parchment to everyone, and Harry skimmed it over.

_U17 ENQT Squad Line-Up_

_1st Team_

_Chasers: T. Karney | J. Jaffney | E. Vang_

_Beaters: P. Redmund | H. Betterson_

_Keeper: K. Rodney_

_Seeker: F. Paige_

_Substitutes_

_Chasers: H. J. Potter | L. Kaine_

_Beaters: J. Redmund | E. Yankov_

_Keepers: J. Ollivander | O. Walson_

_Seekers: W. Malgen | I. Bellon_

Harry finished it, and Joe called (after grabbing their parchents), "Alright, you lot, in the air, we'll be doing the same thing we did earlier this week! Beaters, on the sides! Potter, stay here for a second."

Everyone mounted up and flew off, but Joe and Harry stayed behind. Joe took the parchment from Harry's hand and disposed of it, and then said, "Potter, if one of us Chasers get hurt in the game, you'll be coming on right away, understand?"

Harry nodded and Joe grinned. "Then let's get to it."

That day's practice was not nearly as tiring as the one earlier in the week. Obviously, Joe held back on making them work, just enough so that they were warmed up, but not too much so that they were drop-dead tired.

After almost two hours, Joe called them back and ordered them all into the side of the stadium, where they all ate an extremely light lunch, consisting of light sandwhiches. Joe also ordered them all to eat up, as they'd need their strength.

When they'd finished, Joe checked his watch (it was 12:45) and they went for a few laps around the field, and that's when the crowd began to trickle in. For the next fifteen minutes, almost 50,000 witches and wizards found their seats, taking bets and getting their Omnioculars ready. With every person, Harry's nervousness grew.

When the clock struck 1:15, Joe ordered them all into the side of the stadium. They ended up in a large chamber, split into two halves by a line. On the other side, Harry got the first glimpse of the Netherland squad. They were all obviously sixteen year olds, and very tall. Only one of them was a girl, and she had thick eyebrows that seemed to be set low one her face. In his own line, Harry was last.

They waited in there for fifteen minutes, until Harry heard a roar from outside the large double doors that led into the stadium. Harry shivered with nerves, and then he heard an announcer say in a muffled voice, "Welcome, English and Dutch witches and wizards, to the first under 17 international Quidditch game of the season!"

Right after, another man spoke in Dutch, evidently saying the same thing, like a strange distorted echo. Roars were met with the announcer's statement, and then he heard, "Please welcome the Dutch National team!"

The right side of the double doors burst open, and the opposing team mounted their brooms and flew out in a straight line, to the cheers of the crowd. The announcer called out all of their names with excitement laced in his voice.

After the crowd had calmed down, the announcer said, "And now please welcome the English National Squad – Paige! Rodney! Betterson! Redmund! Vang! Jaffney! Karney! Bellon! Malgen! Walson! Ollivander! Yankov! Redmund! Kaine! And, fourteen-year old, HARRY POTTER!"

As Harry flew out, the crowd cheered even louder. As soon as he passed the doors, rain streamed into his face, and he opened his mouth in a loud laugh of happiness. Looking out into the crowd as he soared into the line of his teammates, he noticed bright flashes of different newspaper companies blinking at him, and he could feel the Omnioculars zooming in on him.

"As the captains get organized, please welcome the International Quidditch Board!"

Harry flew after his teammates, into the side of the stadium, where a type of dugout awaited him. Harry sat on a long bench with the others as Joe said, "Alright, team, let's do our best! Just remember – no won game is worth an injury. It's rainy out there, but we'll have to deal with it. If you want off, we can sub you out just give me the signal. Alright? Alright! 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . ENGLAND!"

Harry and the substitutes stayed on the bench with several of his teammates as the others went out and onto the field.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, the Great Hall was listening in on an amplified radio at the head table. The voice coming out of the radio was the same as the announcers at the game.

"The referee is ready – the captains shake hands – the Quaffle is released and the game begins! Joe Jaffney steals the Quaffle out from Ofan's hands, streaks up the field – passes out to Elizabeth Vang – she scores! 10 – 0, England!"

Cheers throughout the Great Hall, and at 20 seconds in Viktor cried out, "They should put Harry on! It could be 30 – 0 by now with him!"

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The match was as close as one could get. After nearly an hour, the score was 90 – 110, to England. The Dutch proved an extremely tough opponent, their beaters superior to the English, whilst the English chasers easily streaked past the Dutch's. After another hour, the score was 230 – 210, the Netherlands beating them by a hair. The two seekers were totally blind in the rain. That's when it happened.

"Oh! England beats the bludger towards the star Dutch Chaser, Ofan – no! He deflects it easily, but drops the Quaffle in the process – Karney catches it, streaks up the field, and – OH!"

With terrifying acceleration, the bludger, looking like a blur, streaked up from beneath and collided into the Chaser's leg with devastating force. The Chaser cries out in pain, drops the Quaffle, and plunges to the ground, where the wards catch him and lower him gently.

"It looks like the referee has called a time-out, see how bad the damage is. Let's see his verdict -"

Harry waited with sweaty palms as the announcer fell silent, as did the crowd. Suddenly - "Word from the mediwizard says . . . a broken leg! Karney is out for the match! England has to rotate a sub on!"

Harry's heart froze with excitement and fear for his teammate. With bated breath, he waited as Jaffney flew up and spoke to the ref. After a few minutes, the ref flew to the announcer and told him something, and the announcer called out, "Karney is off, and Harry Potter is on!"

Harry freezes while Joe gestures for him. Shakily, Harry mounts his broom and flies off onto the field, the crowd going wild. Joe flies to him, soaked with rain and sweat.

"Harry, we're in a bad shape." Jaffney said. "I jarred my shooting wrist when I stole the ball from their chaser in the beginning of the game. I'll be relying on you to curve 'em in, alright?"

Harry nodded, and flew to his position , the crowd still cheering. Taking deep breaths, the sound around him turned into a quiet muffle. The only thing he could hear and feel was his own heartbeat as the Quaffle was thrown into play.

Vang immediately stole the ball and flew up the field. Harry desperately flew up his side, keeping level with her. She turned and looked, and chucked it across the hoops. The keeper was too low to intercept it, and Harry snatched the wet ball out of the air and positioned his fingers on it so that he could get the curve. Sensing something just behind him, Harry pulled up and flew in a backwards roll, a bludger flying against his air. As he came out of the roll, Harry accelerated and threw an under-handed curve to the far post.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

"My God, Potter maneuvers up and over the bludger – throws the ball – it the keeper misses it – it curves and – POTTER SCORES, BOUNCING IN OFF THE METAL! What an amazing shot by the fourteen year old! His first professional goal is a stunner!"

Those in the Great Hall (mostly Gryffindors, who cared the most about Quidditch), cheered loud enough to break the windows.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

That night, Harry's situation was forgotten. In the Gryffindor Common Room, all of his same house classmates were preparing the party of the century, as they were calling it. The Weasley twins quickly embraced this idea grabbing food from the kitchens and smuggling in as many sweets and entertaining pranking materials they could in from Hogsmeade.

Harry was, however, too exhausted to do anything. And although his international debut was the best he could ask for (a 530 – 325 win, Harry being the man of the match), the fact that he was most likely going to be forced to stay awake for the rest of the night lowered his mood considerably.

Before he'd even reached the Fat Lady, Angelina and Katie were already embracing him, talking excitedly about his performance. Harry just smiled weakly at them as Krum slapped him on the back.

Harry acknowledged their praise as humbly as he could, but could only get a few mumbled words out. Viktor immediately took this into his stride, putting his arm around his friend's shoulders and holding him up with a firm grip. Then, they entered into the common room.

He was met with cheers, but this inexplicably made his insides burn with a warm anger. Harry shrugged off Viktor's arm and gently tried to push his way through the crowd. The crowd immediately surrounded him and began to lift him up, onto their shoulders. Harry squirmed tiredly, and Viktor thankfully spoke out and took Harry off of them and set him down.

"Listen guys, Harry's really tired. He should probably get to bed." Viktor said, his announcement met with quiet. After this pause, a few people yelled out, "Come on, Harry, let's celebrate! You won the match for England!"

Harry grew very angry. "Why should you guys care? This morning, you all hated me for something I didn't do!"

There was silence. Angrily, Harry shoved his way to the stairs, turned, and spat out, "You guys can celebrate for the victory for England. But not for me."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Harry woke up that morning feeling very refreshed at letting out his anger. Although he knew it was most likely unhealthy, and he still wanted to find the solution to his anger problems, it did provide him with some relief. He was happy.

So happy, in fact, that when he bumped into a group of Slytherins on his way to lunch, he grinned at them. "Hey! Have any of you seen Daphne anywhere?"

They were too shocked to show scorn, and one of the first years said, "She's already in the Great Hall."

"Thanks, kid!" Harry said, and walked jauntily towards the Hall after giving him an ecstatic pat on the back.

The group of snakes glanced at each other. "What the bloody hell is wrong with Potter?" "I don't know, but it looks like he wants to see Daphne." "If he's going to see the Ice Queen, he won't stay happy for long."

Inside the Great Hall, Harry plopped himself down on the bench at the Slytherin table, right next to Daphne.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" Daphne hissed at him. "Are you deranged?"

"Slightly! I really don't know what the hell is wrong with me though."

Tracey sat down across from Daphne. "Hey Daph. Wait!" She stood up roughly, banning her knees against the table. Harry dropped his spoon.

"Damnit, you made me drop my spoon." Harry grumbled cheerfully, picking it back up. As this happened, a house elf appeared and handed Harry his breakfast tray, which he set down and promptly began to eat.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" Tracey hissed. "Are you deranged?"

Harry was slightly hurt. "You should get with Daphne and join the 'Let's Hate on Harry' club. Wait, no, that's been done before . . ."

"Potter, look this way." Tracey ordered as she leaned forward. Harry's head snapped up and he looked her in the eyes. Tracey narrowed her eyes, and then mumbled, "Yep. His eyes are glazed over. He's either drunk -"

"That was a one-time thing!" Harry said, offended for a split-second. "But I forgive you!"

"- or under the influence of some kind of potion."

Daphne raised an eyebrow and glanced at Harry's face. "You reckon Pepper-Up potion?"

"Nah, something stronger."

"Hey! Potter! What do you think you're doing?" Came the nasal voice of Draco Malfoy as he stormed down the Great Hall.

Harry waved back at him cheerfully, too happy to care about the attention he was receiving from every spectator. "Hey, Draco! And I swear I didn't do anything! I'm just talking to Tracey and my fiancé!"

Suddenly, Harry covered his mouth. "Whoops! That just happened."

Daphne's jaw was hanging open as she stared at Harry. "Oh my bloody hell, did you just say that out loud?"

Tracey burst out laughing as Daphne grabbed Harry and roughly dragged him out of the Great Hall, shoving past Viktor and Fleur. Harry waved at the two. "Hey guys!" He said.

As they left, Fleur and Viktor entered the Great Hall to a bustle of conversation. They went to the Ravenclaw table and Viktor asked, "Guys, what's going on?"

Angelina answered, "Something's wrong with Harry. He just sat at the Slytherin table, said Daphne was his fiancé, and then got dragged out by the girl."

Noise came from the Gryffindor table. Ron spoke up, "Serves the twat right!"

Listening in, Harry's friends heard Seamus say, "Wait, you did that?"

Ron nodded proudly. "Hit him with an overpowered Cheering Charm and then sprinkled him with Giddy Powder. He'll be like that for a while."

Viktor turned back to the Ravenclaw table. "Well, now we know who's going to get the shit kicked out of him when Harry snaps out of it."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey promptly recognized the symptoms and said a quick '_finite incantatem_' and fed him a couple potions to get rid of the Giddy Powder. Daphne sighed, resting her head in her hands. "Damn Potter."

Pomfrey sighed. "What did she do while he was under, dearest?"

Daphne was very close to the nurse, as she was interested in entering the medical field when she'd grow up. "He announced to the world about our forced engagement."

Pomfrey sighed, patting the dazed Harry on the head. Slowly, Harry's eyes were becoming clearer. After a shake of his head, Harry said, "Ah. How did I get here?"

"Someone hit you with a Cheering Charm and Giddy Powder while your were sleeping. When I find out who -"

At this time, Harry's group of friends all entered the Hospital Wing. There was silence as they all crowded the bed that Harry was sitting up in. After a few moments, Harry rubbed his eyes. "Who -?"

"Ron."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Harry stormed back into the Great Hall (breakfast was just ending), and put all of his power into a right hook into the side of Ron's face.

Ron was thrown off of the bench. Harry then stood up straight, stepped on Ron's hand, and continued walking until he reached the staff's table.

"I'll be serving my detention at 8:00, Professor McGonagall. I trust he'll serve his then, too."


	6. Part Two: Chapter One

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N (important, please read):** Before we begin, an apology is in order. I am sorry for not updating. I had other things going on in my life and I lost motivation to continue this story. However, I am back to begin Part Two. If you haven't figured out by now, This story will be three 'parts', each part having five chapters. In previous chapters, each chapter contained about 10,000 words. I can't guarantee this same number; in fact, they might be closer to 5,000 from now on. This is because I am honestly sort of rushing to get this story over and done with so I can move on to other things. I dislike the plot up until this point, but it's too late to change it now. For your sake, I shall trudge on and get this story finished. Expect more updates. If you haven't noticed, I've deleted all my other stories but this one, and have begun a new one. I did this because too many projects were trying to pop up in my mind and I am forcing myself to finish this story first. Now, if you get bored after reading this chapter and are a fan of the PJO fandom, please check out my other story when you have the time; it's extremely thought-out and if you're a fan of poetry then I think you'll love it: It's called Privileged Victim. Sorry for wasting a bunch of the word count on this but I feel like I had to say something. Enjoy the chapter, and expect an update every two weeks, at most.

Part II  
>Chapter One: The Hint<p>

Harry found how easily fellow students' curiosities were satiated when one gave them a reasonable explanation from a popular (not necessarily credible) source.

Viktor, after hearing the story and with the help of his friends, was able to convince most of the school that Harry had merely called the Slytherin Ice Queen his fiancé due to his high off of the interesting concoction of Ron's. Only two hours after the incident, Harry's classes continued as normal; or rather, as normal as they were on the average day. That is, until Potion's class came upon the end of the day.

After brewing a particularly nice-smelling mixture of substances left much of the class in a relatively positive mood; this was made especially possible by that fact that their professor spent the entire period without saying a single negative word. Snape merely scribbled simple instructions onto a blackboard, laid out the ingredients and sat at his desk, staring off at the back wall of the dungeon room, only occasionally leaving his spot when one of his pupils set off a particularly bad reaction from his/her concoction; and even in those instances, he merely quietly told them what they did wrong and how to correct it.

The mixture of Slytherins and Gryffindors in this class were, to say the least, shocked. While Draco had been extremely quiet in his taunts and mockeries of Harry, he would never turn down a show like Potions in which his nemesis was sure to get taken down by his Head of House. However, he was disappointed especially when, at the end of class, Snape walked about at the various brews and quietly praised Potter of all people for having a well brewed, "if slightly diluted" potion.

The Gryffindors were utterly shocked in Snape's lack of docking points. They didn't even engage in banter on the way out of the classroom with the Slytherins; nor did they in turn. The only noises that were made were coming from Ron's mouth; complaints of his 'unfair' detention and aching head. Having been in this shock since the beginning of class, almost no one noticed that Snape ordered Harry to stay for a few moments before his detention with McGonagall.

Snape lounged in his chair at the back of the classroom as Harry approached him indifferently and respectfully, his hands behind his back, any trace whatsoever of previous angst gone from his demeanor. Snape, in turn, studied the boy with calculating but not cruel eyes.

"What is it that I can do for you, sir?" Harry asked. He himself sensed that this meeting had little to do with his schoolwork, and he was right. Snape said nothing for several moments before leaning forward and waving his hand, the door closing as he did so.

"We have much to discuss, Mr. Potter. Please sit down. Do you have the penseive?" Snape said, placing his head in his hands and slicking back his hair. Harry did so, wondering about Snape's extremely casual and relaxed actions.

"Yes, sir," Harry said and handed him the strange device, "but my detention -"

"Yes, yes, I've informed Minerva already of this meeting. You will serve it tomorrow night." He said as he pocketed the penseive.

Harry nodded and waited patiently as Snape formulated words in his mind. His Potions professor's behavior confused him greatly.

"Mr. Potter," he said, "I would like to apologize from the way I have treated you in the past. I see now the fault in my actions; you do not know much of the way your father and his friends treated me many years ago. What you learned last year was only half of it. For some reason, I decided from the moment you came in this room to take out my old frustration and anger on you. I only now see the wrong in it."

"Forgive me, sir, but what is it that triggered this realization?" Harry asked. Snape's beady eyes burrowed into his green as the man answered.

"The fact that you did not enter yourself into the Goblet is part of it. After some investigation, Albus found that you were telling the truth."

"How did he find out?"

"Albus is a skilled Legilimens. This means he has the ability to quite simply read people's minds. However, the fact that you did not notice that he did whilst you threatened him at shirt-collar suggests that he merely skimmed over the surface of your emotions in the trophy room, and found that your anger really did stem from the frustration of telling the truth and not being believed."

"Sir, there must be a reverse to these Legilimens. In magical theory is there not always a counter-maneuver?"

"There is, Mr. Potter, and that is the main reason for our meeting today. Because you have been found to not put your name in the Goblet, there is most likely an adversary of yours in this school who seeks to put you in immediate danger."

"But, sir, how will this counter to Legilimency help defend me from this threat?"

Snape looked down at his hands before casting a wandless spell that seemed to create an invisible bubble around them, but instead of distorting their surroundings it distorted the sounds they made.

"We must not be heard by anyone or anything in the conversation we are about to have. Namely, Albus."

Harry knit his eyebrows in confusion as Snape leaned forward and talked quickly, clearly and quietly.

"Albus has manipulated your life since before you were born. I'm sure you remember your marriage contract as a large piece of evidence, but he's guilty of many other felonies concerning you as well. However, you are very aware of his biggest mistake; leaving you with your muggle relatives."

Harry's body suddenly went a little tense, and he went into defensive mode. "If you're just going to interrogate me about that -"

"I assure you, I won't." Snape said, calmly. "I'm sure you've heard this from many people, but you must know that I understand."

Harry looked up and studied the apologetic man before him. All previous angst was gone from his dark eyes. In its place was a curious look of sympathy and an overwhelming quality of a deep understanding.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, simply. Snape nodded.

"You were correct in your assumption that there is a reverse, or counter to this art. It is called Occlumency. This art develops the correct technique to effectively defend one's thoughts and emotions from an outside source."

"The way you worded that suggests that isn't the only outcome to practicing Occlumency." Harry observed, the new word strange on his tongue.

"That is correct. Along with the benefits of shielding one's mind, it, with enough practice, can lead to the total mastery of your own mind; to control any thought or emotion perfectly."

Harry perked up, recalling past instances in which this skill would be very useful. "Where can I learn, sir?"

"The arts of Legilimency and Occlumency are banned by the Ministry to be put into text. It is often passed down by word of mouth, especially from parents to their children."

Harry nodded his understanding and looked Snape in the eye. "Are you to teach me, sir?"

Snape smiled grimly. "Yes. Beyond the Headmaster's searching gaze."

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

The next morning, Harry and the newfound Fitness Club entered the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, chatting animatedly. Ronald sat at the end of the table with a bump on his temple and bandaged hands. For a moment, Harry felt sympathy for the redhead, as his detention couldn't have been enjoyable. This sympathy disappeared as the boy noticed Fleur take her seat; as his gaze wasn't set on the most respectful of areas.

Harry snorted and sat next to Viktor, but was surprised when someone set her hand on the table next to his plate and leaned into his ear. Although he hadn't seen her, Harry instinctively knew who it was as her breath tickled his ear and sent shivers down his spine.

"9:00. Behind Hagrid's cabin." Daphne said, quietly and quickly before moving on to her table. Harry's friends all shared strange looks before shrugging and eating. Harry did not finish food, selecting instead to look out into the swirling snow outside, pondering his betrothed was planning.

The day went by in a blur due to its similarity to previous days, as well as Harry's distraction. In every class, he could be seen robotically doing his assignment, but with a vacant look on his face. His friends said nothing, although they all shared the same concern for him.

Harry himself was in deep thought, particularly about a certain Slytherin and her plans, presumably taking place in the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately, all of his thinking did not accomplish anything. Harry only found himself coming back to thinking about Daphne, and only her. Her long hair, small nose and sharp eyes . . .

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter. _Potter._"

Harry jerked awake, his knee hitting the wooden desk with a sharp _*crack!*. _Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes and knee with separate hands as his Head of House sighed, in exasperation and some sympathy.

"Potter. It's time for your detention."

Harry obediently stood and looked around, only to find that he was already in his professor's classroom. He yawned quietly as McGonagall up from her chair.

"You'll be reorganizing the books on my shelf over there. It's quite simple; shouldn't take you more than an hour." She said, before walking around her desk and going to her tired student. She rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I can trust you to do this without running off, can't I, Harry?" McGonagall said, looking into his eyes.

Harry struggled to wipe the sleep out of his features. "Of course, Professor. You'll find that your books shall be stacked very well."

She smiled, this time her features filled with sympathy. "Get some sleep when you're done, Potter. I'm guessing that you've got several things to worry about. Just sleep on it."

Harry nodded. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Professor."

The witch left the room, presumably to a staff meeting, leaving Harry to look at the shelf and sigh at the hundreds of books strewn about it. He quickly went to work, rolling up his sleeves and picking up the first book.

His teacher had been right in saying that the task before him was simple. The repetitive motion of checking the title and putting it in an alphabetically arranged stack allowed his mind to wander. The silence and rhythmic thud of the books almost seemed to encourage him.

Harry decided that, for the time being, he was done pondering who his greatest enemy was as, at the moment, it was evidently whomever had slipped his name into the Goblet. So he set his sights to other things, and of course the marriage contract crossed his mind. More specifically, Daphne Greengrass crossed his mind.

She was a complete mystery. A wild card in the board game that was Harry's life. The strangest aspect of the Slytherin was her personality change; the switch from an Ice Queen to everyone at school to regular Daphne to Harry. Obviously, the term 'Ice Queen' was well-deserved. To everyone else, she was unapproachable. A beautiful girl with a frosty demeanor. But the fact that she was in Slytherin caused the boys in Harry's dorm to not fantasize about her as they did with the upper-class Gryffindors; they saw her as something separate and undateable.

Harry very much felt himself drawn to her for an inexplicable reason. Perhaps it was her level head in all situations, or her beauty. He could not say; all he knew was that there were worse people to be bonded to in a magical contract. He hoped that in the future he would make Daphne reveal more and more of herself, because he felt he'd only glimpsed into the complex personality of his betrothed.

Consumed by such thoughts, Harry's detention went by in a flash. In a short while, he was being ushered out of the classroom at half-past eight, and so he rushed up to the Gryffindor dormitory to change and grab his invisibility cloak. The boys that lived with him were suspicious, but they kept quiet as they had since Harry had exploded at Ron and the Gryffindor house in general. He left the common room and the second he'd entered the halls he threw his cloak on and snuck to the lower levels of the castle.

Although he'd become used to sneaking around Hogwarts at night, he reflected on the creepiness of the castle as he descended several flights of stairs. At night, only the orange glow of torchlight lit the dark walls, he found himself feeling somewhat uncomfortable with being alone. But he shook the feeling off quickly. He hoped that the invisibility cloak would do its job and keep him out of sight.

Because it was not quite curfew, Harry was forced to maneuver around the occasional student (usually a first year who was lost, looking for his or her common room), but he eventually made it out onto the grounds. The moment he exited the corridors, he breathed deeply and sighed as the cool night air rushed in. The night was on the colder side, and cold dew had formed on the grass beneath his feet. He soon found that his hands were growing cold, and now he was glad that he'd worn jeans and a sweatshirt to keep out the cold.

He descended the hill to Hagrid's cabin, keeping in mind that he'd have to be extra careful, for the half-giant's dog, Fang, would no doubt raise the alarm at a possible intruder. The small hut had lights on inside, and Harry swore that he could hear the groundskeeper singing to himself as he made himself tea.

Harry stayed to the shadows as much as he could, as he knew the light from the moon could give away his position. He swung around the backside of Hagrid's cabin and sure enough, Daphne Greengrass sat upon a crate, reading a book with the light from Hagrid's window. Harry smirked and decided that now was a good time to play a little trick.

Creeping up silently, Harry slowly sat himself right next to her, the box creaking slightly but Daphne not noticing. Before he revealed himself, Harry took a moment to think about all of the possibilities and things he could do and explore with the cloak; most of them quite naughty things that he immediately told himself to forget. He couldn't do those things to a girl.

But as Daphne's body rose and fall as she breathed, Harry couldn't help but feel a tingle up his spine at how close he was to her. Deciding it was time, Harry flipped off the hood and leaned into her ear.

"Naughty Daphne, out after dark." Harry whispered, his breath forming into mist in the cool air. Daphne jumped and promptly fell off the crate, landing on her behind in the damp grass as Harry chuckled quietly. Daphne's face was one of total surprise, and then anger. She opened her mouth to yell at him before she remembered where she was; instead, she stood quietly and walked up to him before punching him in the gut.

As Harry doubled over a bit, not too affected, Daphne shivered, but not just from the cold. When she'd felt his warm breath against her ear and figured out it was Harry, her body had tingled from the warmth of his breath. Glaring, Daphne grabbed his hand and led him into the forest.

After around thirty seconds of walking, Daphne slapped Harry's shoulder, who had started laughing again. "Damn you, Potter! You scared the crap out of me!"

Harry laughed some more. "Oh, but it was worth it! The look on your face!"

Daphne tried to force herself to keep on her scowl but couldn't, a smile breaking through. With a start, she realized what had just happened. She had always had full control over her expression; this was the first time anyone had forced her to smile or laugh. Daphne shivered again, wondering what affects Potter could be having on her.

"Damn you. This is not the proper way to start out a date." Daphne said, putting on her scowl. Harry smiled broadly at her, whipping off his cloak.

"That's true. Here -" Harry pulled her in to a hug. Her cold face touched his warm neck and though she was tense at first from the unexpected hug, she relaxed and hugged back slightly. Against her will, blood rushed to her face and Harry let her go.

"Now, what plans do you have for me?" Harry asked of her. She turned and began walking into the forest.

"I heard from some of the Slytherins that there was something in the forest to do with the First Task. And I figured we would have some privacy here." Daphne explained, Harry walking quickly to catch up with her.

"Why would we need privacy?" Harry asked slowly, a smile on his lips. Daphne turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Not for what you're thinking, Potter. Slow down a bit." Daphne said dryly before continuing on her way.

Harry followed a few steps behind her, enjoying the banter they shared. Ahead of him, Daphne's brain was going into overdrive, thinking a million things at once. She realized that it was very awkward of her to walk ahead of him, alone, and she struggled to figure out a way to fix that. So she stopped suddenly and extended her arm behind her. Harry stopped too, and looked at her arm suspiciously.

Daphne looked back at him with the dame dry look. "Well, Potter? Aren't you going to do something?"

Harry recovered and walked up next to her, offering his arm. Daphne, in response, held his arms with both her hands and hugged it to her body, if a bit awkwardly. She intertwined her fingers with his, and they continued their walk.

An awkward silence prevailed before Harry broke the ice. "This is a bit awkward, innit?"

Daphne looked up towards him. "How so?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "Well, you never really seemed like the dating type. Someone who wanted to do dating-things."

"What do you mean by 'dating-things'?" Daphne asked, guiding him slightly to his left. Harry followed her guidance.

"Well, you know. Hand-holding. Hugging." Harry said awkwardly. Daphne snorted.

"If those two things are the only things you think of when you want to date someone, I guess I'm in for a rough ride." Daphne said sarcastically, but not rudely. Harry blushed a crimson.

"Well, not just that. There are other things too." He stammered. Daphne saw the opportunity to make him uncomfortable and took his ruthlessly.

"Like what, Potter?" Daphne asked. Harry's face turned a deeper shade of red when he thought of the other possibilities and he stayed quiet.

Daphne rolled her eyes visibly. "Oh, please. I don't see why you're blushing when everyone has seen you snog Angelina."

There was a very, very awkward pause as Harry stayed silent and Daphne wondered why she'd said that. While she was over the fact that Harry had dated her (even if it was only for a few days), she was still somewhat bitter about the fact that they'd kissed and gone that far even though Harry knew he was in a contract with her.

"I'm sorry about that." Harry said quietly, and seriously. Daphne looked up at him to see him wearing a very guilty and solemn expression. "I've never dated anyone before, and hadn't even kissed anyone before Angelina. When I found out about the contract, I was so angry in part because I knew I'd never get the chance to date a few girls and fall in love a few times. I'm really sorry."

Daphne kept quiet. She hadn't known that he hadn't dated anyone before Angelina, and now that he confessed his feelings she understood him to a better degree, and for some reason she felt warmth in her body just from the fact that Harry had shared something with her.

"You're forgiven, Harry." Daphne said. "I understand what you were feeling."

Suddenly, Harry froze in his tracks, and Daphne stopped in response, looking up at him again. "What?"

Harry looked down at her with a goofy smile on his face. "You called me Harry."

Daphne sighed, realizing that she had but not willing to give up her ground. "That's your name, isn't it?"

Harry chuckled and kept walking. "Not according to you. You like to call me Potter. Or sometimes dunderhead."

"Yeah, well. You can't say those don't apply to you too." Daphne replied. Harry nodded, conceding her point.

"Good point. The problem was that I could never really call you Greengrass in a menacing way. It just doesn't sound right. Shut up, Greengrass!" Harry said the last phrase with an angry tone, and then sighed and shook his head. "It just doesn't have the same feeling."

Daphne laughed and happiness flared in Harry's chest at this achievement. Her laugh was once again crisp, clear and beautiful, just as he'd remembered it. His body swelled with pride.

"That's true. I guess I'll call you Harry from now on, since you seem to be at a disadvantage." Daphne said. Harry smiled.

"I think I like that. Anyways, where are we even going?"

Daphne smirked. "You'll see soon enough."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Daphne shivered, this time purely from the cold. She was only wearing skinny jeans and a windbreaker. Harry quickly unentangled himself from her and took off his green sweatshirt. Before she could ask what he was doing, he was already slipping it on over Daphne's head.

"Harry! What are you doing?" She protested. Harry forced it down over here, her arms trapped to her sides and she glared at him.

"You've messed up my hair. Plus, I'm not even cold." She said, glaring. Harry, on impulse, touched her face gently with his hand. Her cheek was soft and cold, and they both shivered simultaneously.

"You're cold. Deal with it, Daphne." Harry said as Daphne struggled to put her arms through the holes. Once she'd done so, she found that it was several sizes larger than her size, and that the inside was still toasty warm from his body heat. She sighed, and hugged her arms around herself, forgetting that Harry was there and just enjoying the warmth around her.

"Enjoying yourself, there?" Harry asked, a huge smirk on his face. Daphne looked up at him indignantly.

"No. Not at all." She said, letting her arms down to her sides. The sweatshirt sleeves extended several inches past her fingers, and Harry chuckled at her disheveled hair and small body in a large sweatshirt.

"You look great. Now, let's continue." Harry said, offering her his arms once again. Daphne took it only to realize that he was wearing a thin long-sleeve shirt as his only protection against the cold.

"You'll be freezing soon." Daphne said, but Harry shook his head.

"It's too late. The sweatshirt is yours. You need it more than me, anyways." Harry said firmly. Daphne sighed, but did not argue, because in truth she enjoyed the warmth of the clothing.

"Fine. But you owe me one." Daphne said. Harry laughed as they intertwined fingers again.

"I give you my clothes and now I owe you one. This is a cruel world.' Harry said.

"Oh, be quiet, Harry." Daphne said, only to find that she'd put a lot of affection in her words. She closed her eyes and rested her head against Harry's arm. Harry looked down at her head of hair and smiled.

"Looks like you're a bit tired. We still have a whole date to get through." He chided. Daphne chuckled into his arm.

"Sure, sure. We'll be there in a -" With that, there was an ear-splitting roar as well as a burst of red light from a clearing ahead of them. The two ducked down into a crouch quickly before creeping forward to see what was there.

In the middle of the clearing, there were four large cages, each one containing their own dragons, who were in turn spewing fire from their gaping mouths. Each dragon's cage was surrounded by several wizards and witches, who all seemed to be attempting to calm them down as Harry and Daphne looked on in awe.

"Why are they here?" Harry whispered to Daphne, throwing the invisibility cloak over them. She shook her head.

"I don't know. I think it's for the First Task." Daphne said nervously. She touched his arm. "If they are, you better learn how to handle dragons before the task comes."

Harry nodded in agreement, but their date was ended when they heard a half-giant headed their way. They both began to stalk away as Hagrid and Madame Maxine walked past them, their massive figures towering over them as they passed. The couple both tried to conceal the smirks the had when they saw the odd couple, and opted to wait to talk until they were back at Hagrid's cabin, where Harry promptly began laughing.

"Hagrid and Madame Maxine! Who would've guessed?" He said, voice filled worth mirth. Daphne giggled.

"Zey are both big-boned!" She said in a French accent, and Harry laughed harder with her for a full minute before they both calmed down and leaned against Hagrid's hut. Harry looked at her in the moonlight and smiled.

"Thanks for making this a good time, and for giving me a hint about the First Task, Daphne." Harry said gratefully. Daphne smiled up shyly at him.

"You're welcome, Harry. I had fun too." But her smile disappeared quickly, and she suddenly hugged him. Harry returned the hug after a moment's hesitation.

"Just be safe. Please." Daphne said quietly into his chest. Harry nodded.

"I'll try." He said simply, and she withdrew before straightening up and kissing him on the cheek, Harry's face reddening rapidly.

"Goodnight, Harry." She said, before she began to walk up to the castle. Harry touched his own cheek.

"Goodnight, Daphne." He said quietly as she left. As she left and Harry went to follow her path back into the school, all he could think about was the feeling of her lips on his cheek and her body against his.

**-ooOoOoOoo-**

Harry hadn't talked much to any of his friends during their morning run the next day. No one had joined the newfound club as of yet, but Harry suspected that at least a few more people would join before the end of the year. He waited until they'd all sat down for breakfast when he said quietly, "The First Task will involve a dragon for each of us. I think we each have to get past one."

Viktor choked on his food and Angelina paled while Fleur shivered in fright. Viktor shook his head, swallowing. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Positive. Why else would there be four dragons being kept in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?"

They all processed his words. Angelina shook in fright. "How are we supposed to defeat a dragon?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think we have to kill or defeat it; that's difficult, even for trained professionals. If I had to guess, we just have to get around one."

They all wondered how they would manage to do that before Fleur said, "But why were you in ze Forbidden Forest, 'Arry?"

Harry blushed profusely. "Just decided to take a walk."

Viktor chuckled. "A walk normally doesn't involve your betrothed, does it?"

Harry glared at him. "How did you know?"

"I didn't, until you just confirmed it for me." Viktor said, casually eating his breakfast. The two girls giggled at them as Harry huffed.

"Whatever." He said, eating his meal. The others, temporarily forgetting about the dragons, all wondered who Harry's betrothed could possibly be, but they were stopped when Harry said, "I think we have to work together in this tournament if we want to make it out alive. We should meet up during our spare time and work on spells that are effective against dragons."

Angelina agreed. "I don't care about winning, I just don't want to die."

The others agreed, and began to organize what their plans would be for training.

The next month or so was filled with homework, studying for classes and training for the First Task. The training sessions were always light-hearted between the four champions, where they looked into spells especially made to work against dragons. They practiced and practiced as hard as they could and used all of their free time on it. Thankfully for Harry and Viktor, there was a long break from international Quidditch, and the date of the inter-house quidditch tournament was not set yet, so they had a long time to work on the First Task. Harry spoke with Daphne shortly on a number of occasions, but they both agreed for the sake of their grades and his training, they would have to wait to go on another date until after the First Task. Snape also said that his Occlumency sessions would begin after the event. Professor Moody was far more subdued in his DADA classes, presumably from experiencing backlash from McGonagall for having such intense lessons. By the time the First Task was close, the champions felt almost ready to face their respective dragons, although they still did not know exactly what they were meant to do. But just as Angelina had said, all they wanted was to make it through the tournament alive. Something Harry hoped they would all be able to do.


	7. Part Two: Chapter Two

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **I'll keep this AN as short as possible. If you have time, please go to my profile and look at my bio to see more information, and check out my PJO story, **_Privileged Victim_**, as well. I am far more proud of where that story is going rather than this one. There may be a long author's note for the next chapter, though, so watch out.

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part II  
>Chapter Two: The First Task<p>

Another involuntary shiver wracked Harry's body as he bounced his leg out of sheer anxiety for the event taking place. Even after over a month of preparation, he felt he would never be prepared enough for the Hungarian Horntail that awaited him.

He glanced around the room, hopelessly trying to get his mind off what would come as his throat constricted slightly. There was no way around it. The judges and Headmaster and Mistresses had already told them what they would have to do; capture the golden egg that each of their dragons was tasked to protect. He growled and shook his head, marveling at the stupidity of the judges. The fact that this arena was being held in an arena made purely from wood showcased the logic that the wizards possessed. He looked down at this gloved hands and unclenched them, going over what he and the other champions had discussed countless times in their training sessions.

Stunning spell was useless unless cast by multiple people. In fact, most spells would not get past any dragon's hide. He would have to somehow distract it, because there was no way he could overcome it by sheer spell force. Collectively, the champions had decided to go for the same strategy: use the conjunctivitis curse on the dragon's eyes right away (in order for its eyes to become swollen shut) and then rush to the egg and run away as fast as possible. They had at first discussed using the Flame-Freezing Charm to become impervious to the most dangerous weapon of a dragon (the dragon-fire), but after research found that because dragon-fire was so powerful, they would not feel pain but their bodies would feel the effects of the fire. After trying many times to find another strategy, they decided upon the Conjunctivitis curse.

There was suddenly cheering from outside of the tent, and the familiar roar of the dragon. "Miss Angelina Johnson is the third champion to use the Conjunctivitis curse on her dragon, and it appears to be affective. It seems that the three champions so far have used the same strategy." The narrator announced, his tone a bit bored.

This was true. Both Viktor and Fleur had gone already, both managing to steal the egg but also suffering minor burns as well. The four had practiced the curse so much that they were all practically experts at it; they could do it with their eyes swollen shut.

"Oh, but she appears to have missed, and the Norwegian Ridgeback is not happy! She dives to the left, but . . . oh! Ouch! She is caught on the shoulder by the dragon's tail! She appears to be gravely injured. The team of dragon-handlers have been deployed." The announcer said, joy evident in his voice that something else had finally happened.

Harry's heart stopped for a split second, and he cursed under his breath: at the tournament, at Dumbledore, and at Angelina for getting hurt. Anger rushed through him, along with adrenaline as he realized that he was next.

He jumped up and began to pace around, reminding himself how to cast the curse and practicing the wand motion. Nervous sweat appeared about his body, and he tried to let out a long, calming breath, reminding himself that out of the four champions, he was the most likely to survive; for he was excellent at the conjunctivitis curse, he was very agile and because of his physique, he knew his spell-craft would be much more powerful than it had been in the past, when he was skinny and weak. He cracked his neck as the narrator announced that the Hungarian Horntail was being chained in the arena.

Viktor and Fleur walked in, both with bandages and a strange orange goo on some portion of their bodies. Fleur hugged him, and Viktor clasped forearms with him.

"Good luck, Harry." Viktor said deeply. "You got the worst of the lot. Just avoid the fire and get out of there fast as possible."

"Is Angelina alright?" Harry said, nervously. He was too distracted by his friend's 'grave injury' to think about the dragon at the moment.

"I saw her in ze medical tent." Fleur said. Her english had steadily improved, and now her French accent was less noticeable. "I think she will be alright. Ze nurse is with her."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, before taking a long deep breath as he heard a massive roar from the arena. Viktor touched his shoulder.

"You can do it, Harry. The rating they give you doesn't matter right now: none of us care what we get. Just survive." He said gravely. Harry nodded quickly, fighting the urge to throw up when the booming voice of the announcer rang out.

"The dragon is ready! The fourth campion will now come out. Harry Potter will face the Hungarian Horntail!" He said, enthusiasm laced into his voice. Harry grimaced, and closed his eyes for a moment. Fleur hugged him again and Viktor clapped him on the back.

Without another word to his friends, Harry strode forth out of the tent and into the arena.

The ground was rough and rocky, with large boulders protruding at random points from the ground. At a slightly elevated level, there sat a shining golden egg surrounded by large white ones. But on top of that was a massive, black-scaled dragon. Its massive horns were bronze-colored, with spikes protruding from along its back and especially on its tail. Its beady yellow eyes studied the newcomer viciously before opening its mouth and delivering an ear-splitting roar.

If the announcer was saying anything, Harry wouldn't hear it, for blood was pounding loudly in his ears. He drew his wand and crouched down, sneaking up to hide behind the closest boulder to him. His first step would be to use the conjunctivitis on the creature, but for that he would have to get much, much closer. Peaking over his hiding place, Harry saw the dragon's head, tilted slightly and glaring into the boulder.

As quickly as he could, Harry turned and sprinted to the next closest boulder some ten feet away. The dragon reacted with surprising speed, spewing dragon-fire wildly in his direction. He rolled into place, noting that even from far away, he could feel the heat from the orange flames. Noticing a large rock on the ground, Harry snatched it up and threw it far to his left. Immediately, a column of fire flew after it, and as Harry turned to run the other way he saw the dragon whip its tail around and smash the spikes into the ground, causing a large indent in the rock to form.

Thankfully, Harry was already far closer to the dragon than before, hiding behind another boulder. He could hear and feel the dragon shift its feet around the mound, searching for the intruder who planned on stealing its egg. Harry took a deep breath, knowing that there were no more boulders any closer to the nest. When he felt ready, he jumped up and threw two curses towards the dragon's eyes.

Unable to see if he had hit is mark, Harry ducked down again as there was another roar and fire blasted into the opposite side of the boulder. He could actually feel the rock he was leaning against begin to warm, so he muttered a flame-freezing spell over himself to just save him from cringing at the heat.

He took another risk and looked over. Unfortunately, only one spell had hit its mark: the dragon was growling and hissing at him, one of its eyes swollen completely shut, the other yellow one glaring at him with pure hatred, now struggling against its massive chain.

Harry closed his eyes and took one more deep breath before putting all his faith into another spell.

Leaping to the side of the boulder, he paced forward and yelled, "_Aguamenti!_"

Just in time to meet the dragon-fire, a spiral of clear water burst forth from his wand. With a deafening hissing sound, the water and fire connected and disappeared into steam that exploded upwards from the connection. He held the spell for another five seconds before fire off another quick conjunctivitis spell right away, rolling to one side. Some of the dragon-fire connected with his arm as he rolled, but all he felt was a warm breeze; however, he remembered that it just felt that away. He now had severe burns covering his left forearm, but thankfully the dragon had stumbled backwards in its blind rage. Harry quickly climbed the mound, grabbed the surprisingly heavy golden egg before rushing off towards the exit as the dragon roared in rage.

As he passed the gate out of the arena, a dozen wizards and witches leapt out and went to work at subduing the dragon, who was in its greatest fit yet. Harry was just grateful to leave as he was rushed into the medical tent.

Madame Pomfrey muttered about the dangers of dragons and stupidity of the tournament while Harry held out his burned forearm for treatment. His attention was not on the orange liquid she applied to his arm; rather, it was on the sleeping form of Angelina, who was in a hospital gown with bandages al over her left side, going up the side of her neck. As soon as Pomfrey had bandaged his arm and he had thanked her, he got up and went to Angelina's side. She opened an eye and recognized her former boyfriend.

"Heya, Harry. Sorry if I scared you, before. I missed the bloody curse." She sighed, regretfully. Harry chuckled and touched her healthy arm.

"You better be sorry. When I heard you were hurt I freaked out." Harry admitted, caressing her arm. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"I'm just happy you're okay." She said to him, and he nodded.

"Me, too. But, with you." He said awkwardly while Angelina giggled.

Unbeknownst to the two, a dark-haired Slytherin girl clenched her fists and walked away from the entrance of the tent, anger palpable around her. She roughly shoved past Fleur and Viktor, who entered and sat by the two other champions.

"Zey are announcing ze scores soon." Fleur said. "You did amazing, Harry."

Viktor nodded in agreement. "I can't believe your water spell was powerful enough to match dragon-fire. It's unheard of."

Harry just shrugged modestly as someone came in and ushered the three healthy champions outside, back to the arena. The dragon had gone (although not without a fight, which was evident from the scorch marks all over the rock), and above them, in the stands, the four judges sat next to one another, holding a large white square: Dumbledore, Maxine, Karkaroff, Ludo Bagman and a Russian wizard that was apparently high up in the Ministry. The announcer raised his voice.

"It is time for the scores. First, Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons champion, who used a conjunctivitis curse to blind the dragon and steal the egg, suffering minor burns on her legs. The judges will score her out of ten. Judges?"

Dumbledore gave a 7, Maxine gave an 8, Karkaroff gave a 5, Bagman gave a 7 and the Russian gave a 6. There were cheers from the girls of Beauxbaton and polite applause from the rest.

"Fleur Delacour's total score is 33 out of 50. Next was Viktor Krum, champion of Durmstrang, who used a conjunctivitis curse to blind the dragon and steal the egg, suffering minor burns on his legs." The announcer repeated rather dully. "Judges?"

Dumbledore gave a 7, Maxine gave a 7, Karkaroff gave a 10, Bagman gave an 8 and the Russian gave a 7. Manly hoots came from the Durmstrang crowd, and there was applause in the arena.

"Next was Angelina Johnson, champion of Hogwarts, who tried to use a conjunctivitis curse but was unfortunately hit and injured by her dragon's tail. She was unable to retrieve the egg. Judges?"

Dumbledore gave a 5, Maxine gave a 4, Karkaroff gave a 0, Bagman gave a 4 and the ministry man gave a 3. Although most in the stands attended Hogwarts, the fact that she was injured caused them to not cheer with very much enthusiasm.

"Her total is 19. Lastly, our second Hogwarts champion, Harry Potter, successfully blinded the dragon with a conjunctivitis and proceeded to fend off its dragon fire with a powerful water-conjuring spell, successfully taking the egg, but was seriously burned on his right arm in the process. Judges?"

Dumbledore held up a 9, Maxine gave an 8, Karkaroff gave a 4, Bagman gave a 10 and the Russian ministry man gave a 9. The announcer said, "His total is 40 points, putting him in first place ahead of Krum, Delacour, and then Johnson. Please give your champions a round of applause."

There was much cheering at Harry's score, and Dumbledore looked down at him and gave him a big smile, which Harry did not reciprocate. The boy simply looked his headmaster in the eyes and shrugged, before leaving the arena with his friends.

**-oOo-**

Dinner in the Great Hall was held shortly after; however, Harry urged his friends to go on without him, telling them that he needed to change his clothes in his dorm. Instead, he was grabbed on his way there, and his eyes were met with the angry gaze of Daphne Greengrass.

"Good job today, _Potter_." Daphne said, almost spitting out his surname. "I'm sure you and your _friends_ had a great time."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. She was acting suddenly extremely bitter and he was not sure why. "What's wrong with you, Daphne? Aren't you happy I survived?"

For a moment, her eyes softened, as she remembered that he had been in a life-threatening situation, before they hardened again. "Sure. I'm sure _Angelina_ was glad as well. Actually, you seemed just as glad to see her."

Harry growled. "Oh, _that's_ what this is about. I'm not allowed to talk to my friend after she almost dies?"

"Oh, you can do whatever you want, Potter." Daphne hissed, glad that she was getting him angry too. "You can just go around dating whoever the hell you want and snogging whoever you want as well. I don't care."

"Oh, shut up, Greengrass." Potter snarled, one of his familiar angry fits beginning to overcome him. "I said I was bloody sorry for that before. What do you want me to do now, _Ice Queen_?"

Despite the fact that she had purposefully riled him up, Daphne was still surprised that Harry had responded so scathingly. She had heard rumors that recently he was having anger problems, but she hadn't witnessed it first hand. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "I wan you to apologize."

Suddenly, at the switch of her tone, Harry became aware of what was happening. He took a quick glance around. He had backed her up into a wall, and his hands were clenched into fists. He closed his eyes for a moment, and found that his blood was boiling with unnecessary rage, and he took a very deep breath.

Daphne watched all of this in surprise. There were two aspects of Harry Potter that had just been revealed: the dangerously angry side and the cool and controlled side. The way he had just suddenly switched confused her greatly, but she decided not to mention it for now.

"Fine. I'm sorry for touching Angelina. Happy?" Harry said in a low tone. Daphne's anger dissipated when he looked into his eyes and saw that he was hurting; probably because one of his close friends had been hurt. Daphne reflected for a moment and realized that she, too, would have felt the same way.

"Not quite." Daphne said, before fiercely grabbing him and hugging him close. Harry lifted his arms up slightly in surprise at the hug, but slowly lowered his arms and wrapped them around her. He sighed and returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry for being so angry. Seeing you close to her just reminded me of before." She mumbled in to his chest. Harry sighed again as Daphne felt his heart rate slow down in his chest.

"And I'm sorry for getting angry back. I'll be more careful around her from now on." He promised, resting his chin on her head. This hug lasted for another minute before Harry's stomach growled, and reminded them that dinner was ready.

**-oOo-**

The next day, the hype around Harry's defeat of the dragon had faded somewhat, especially when it came time for another Defense Against the Dark Arts class. For the past month since the boggart incident, they had been studying low-level curses, but apparently Moody had deemed it time once again to kick the lesson up a notch, at the urging of Professor Snape.

"Come in, all of you. Hurry up. Sit down. We're doing something new in class today." Moody said. He turned to write something on the chalkboard. "Do any of you know what Legilimency is?"

Harry froze for a second in his seat next to Parvarti, greatly confused. Apparently, Snape had a chat with Moody, because there was no other way Legilimency would be in the curriculum. He raised his hand.

Moody turned back around and spotted the dark-haired student. "Potter?"

"Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's finding's. But it's highly illegal and is only used with consent or in trial." Harry recited, and Moody nodded, his ugly face splitting into a grin.

"Perfect. It is true that Legilimency is illegal. But when was the last time Death Eaters ever cared about something being illegal, aye?" Moody chuckled. "All of you, line up, single-file. Today, I will attempt to skim over the surface of your mind and see what you ate for dinner last night. You will attempt to hide that information from me."

"But sir, how are we to defend ourselves?" Hermione asked, her hand shooting up. Harry rolled his eyes from the back of the line. In truth, he deeply regretted fighting with Hermione all that while ago. Since then, she'd stopped being friends with Ron and instead spend even more time in her studies. Harry felt bad about how he had treated her and resolved to make it up to her soon.

"I will teach you the most basic form of Occlumency: the art of defending your mind. All you have to do is focus on one thing, and only that one thing. If your mind wanders in the slightest, that will be a large enough window for me to slip past you and see what you stuffed in your faces for dinner. Understood?" He looked down the line of students. "Now, who would like to go first?"

And so it began. The student would go up and stand in front of Moody, who would look them in the eyes and in just a few seconds would say something along the lines of, "Buttered bread." or "Pumpkin pie." or "Treacle tarts." And as the line went down, it seemed that no one was able to fend him off.

As he neared his teacher, Harry sighed and practiced within his own head. The concept was so simple: there had to be something that was throwing everyone off. He closed eyes and, and then realized. It was their eyes. Every student looked him in the eyes, and somehow he was able to read their minds. He thought Snape had mentioned something about eye contact, and Harry decided that would be his lifeline.

Harry stepped forward in front of the Auror, who looked down at him with a grotesque, almost sadistic smile. "And so we begin." His professor said. Harry nodded, and then proceeded to close his eyes, making Moody laugh grimly at the boy's intelligence.

In his mind, he cleared out every thought except for one moment in the past: when he had walked in on Petunia and Vernon Dursley having sex for the first and last time. He focused on the overweight, red-faced man above the pencil-thin woman and almost gagged himself at the memory, but forced himself to think about it.

As he did, he felt something brushing up against his consciousness. When it made full contact, Harry pushed the thought of the incident towards his professor, who, upon seeing it, withdrew from his mind and proceeded to burst into laughter, falling back and leaning against his desk for support. His laugh sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before, but it was definitely a laugh. Moody's head was thrown back, his chest heaving as he cackled. Harry himself opened his eyes, forced the thought away and began to chuckle, much to the surprise of the rest of the class, who were already confused at Moody's reaction.

Just as Moody began to calm down, Harry chuckled again. "Just thinking about that made me want to throw up what I ate for dinner last night, Professor. Did it work?"

Moody broke out into laughter again before glancing up at the clock. "Class – class dismissed."

His hand came down to pat Harry's shoulder as he continued to chuckle. "Excellent work, Potter. You get an O for the week."

With that, the class began to disperse, and once they were outside, Parvarti questioned him as to why he and Moody had been laughing. Beginning to laugh again himself, he told Parvarti what had happened, who turned very red-faced and suddenly laughed as well.

"I can't believe you showed that memory to a _professor!_" She laughed, and Harry chuckled with her until he heard a giggle from behind him. Turning, he saw Hermione walking alone, listening to their conversation with a red face and hiding behind her books. Upon seeing him, Hermione turned slightly away, but Harry decided it was time.

"Listen, Hermione." Harry said, walking next to her. "I'm really sorry for exploding at you a while ago. I was just really pissed off at a lot of things, and I ended up taking it out on you. Will you forgive me?"

Hermione continued on in silence for a while before dropping her books unceremoniously across the floor and hugging him. Harry allowed the hug and gave a half-hearted one back as the bookworm began to cry.

"I – I'm so sorry for being so nosey ad bossy and stupid, Harry." Hermione whimpered, and Harry patted her back, thoroughly embarrassed about having her crying against him.

"It's alright, Hermione. I'm the one that really hurt you, so I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things about you and Ron." Harry said in reply. Hermione separated from him, sniffing, and he picked up her books for her and handed them back to her. As she took them, she confessed.

"You were totally right about him, though." Hermione said, tears still rolling. "I refused to give him help with homework and he got really angry and shunned me. You were right."

Harry wiped her tears away for her. "I know, but you're alright now. I promise I won't ask for any homework answers as long as you don't force me to do my school things. Deal?"

Hermione hefted her books in her hand and smiled. "Deal. Thank you, Harry." She said, with a bright, teary smile. Harry smiled back.

"You're welcome, Hermione. It's good to have you again."

**-oOo-**

Harry plopped down next to Viktor and across from Angelina Fleur with whole-hearted enthusiasm, and promptly began to eat his lunch, a happy expression on his face the whole time. Their slight confusion was cleared up when Hermione sat down next to him.

"Hey, Harry. Guys." She said, a bright smile on her face. The four greeted her nicely.

"So, you and Harry made up?" Angelina said, beginning to eat. Hermione nodded happily.

"Yeah. We're good, now." She said, starting her routine of reading and eating. Harry eyed up what she was doing and rolled his eyes and her predictability. Viktor chuckled.

"I'm glad to see you guys are friends again. Anyways, Harry, we three have been wondering who your betrothed could be, and -" Viktor was interrupted when Harry glared at him as Hermione perked up at the Bulgarian's words.

"Hush. Not so loud. Only you three know about it so far -"

"Four, actually." Hermione jumped in. "I figured you would be stuck in a marriage contract."

Harry glared at her. "You should hush, too!"

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Come on, Harry, just tell us." She said, quieter than the others. Harry looked at her, and she smirked at him.

"We've been hoping that your betrothed is cute. We want Harry to have a cute groom for his wedding." She said, and Harry sighed as the others laughed.

"It's not funny, guys. "He said, a little bit of sadness leaking into his words. "I'm stuck with this person for the rest of my life."

"Only more reason to tell us who it is!" Fleur said logically. "Can we at least have a few hints."

Harry took another bite of food before he sighed. "I'm not going to tell you who it is quite yet, but I will tell you she's not in Gryffindor."

"Damn!" Viktor said forcefully. Everyone looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged.

"Honestly, I was hoping for his betrothed to be a boy. Just imagine, our ickle Harry, dressed in a tux next to his husband-to-be." He said, smirking. Angelina and Fleur coo-ed simultaneously as Harry glared at them.

"You guys rehearsed this, didn't you?" Harry grumbled. Fleur and Angelina laughed and high-fived.

"Come on, Harry. Even you have to admit what a cute couple you and Neville would make." Angelina said, resting her head on her hands and sighing. "Imagine – clumsy little Neville all awkward while Harry is all in control."

Fleur took up her friend's stance. "Ah, yes. I ship them, very hard."

After a few seconds of deadpan, they all burst out laughing again – except for Harry, that is. He sipped his drink.

"I feel a bit violated." Harry admitted. Angelina suddenly looked at him with an accusing look.

"Not a homophobe, are you, Harry?" She said, seriously. Harry shook his head, quickly.

"No, no, not at all. I just feel violated that you guys have been imagining me with random people. I'd feel just as violated if you had imagined me having sex with McGonagall." Harry explained, just as Parvarti sat down next to Angelina.

"What's with you and older people having sex, Harry?" Parvarti asked. "Did you tell them about your older-sexual-fantasies?"

As the other three champions looked at him with questions in their eyes, Harry shook his head, and Parvarti gushed.

"Can I tell them? Please? Can I?" She begged, and Harry laughed.

"Sure, you can. Go for it." He said. And so she did; and as she told them the story, Harry smiled and continued to eat. Perhaps being in the Tri-Wizard Tournament wouldn't quite ruin his whole year.

**-oOo-**

**A/N:**Also, sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted to get one out again quickly. Expect most of the other chapters to be this length.


	8. Part Two: Chapter Three

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **This chapter is slightly longer, and I hope you're all proud. This is the third chapter in three days. Also, please look at my other story, **_Privileged Victim_**. It's my creative outlet since I don't particularly enjoy this one. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part II  
>Chapter Three: Feasts and Balls<p>

"We have made a grave mistake, Daphne." Harry announced loudly. She rolled her eyes, plucking at her own dress. Almost a month had passed since the First Task, during which Harry and Daphne (while not going on any official dates) met up and talked more and more. Unfortunately for the both of them, the 10th of December came by far faster than they would've liked.

"Too bad. You have to go." Daphne said sternly. She looked Harry up and down. He was in a black muggle suit with a dark green tie, and the girl had to admit he looked dashing and classier than she'd seen him dress before.

"Why, though?" Harry whined, fidgeting with his tie, feeling as though it were trying to choke him. "We're already in a magical contract. It doesn't matter if your parents approve of me, they have to deal with it as much as us."

Daphne winced internally. Despite becoming closer and closer throughout the year, it was evident in the way Harry spoke and acted that he was upset about having to marry her. While that was understandable, she couldn't help but feel a bit offended: after all, there were worse people to be forced to marry, and (though she would never admit it), Daphne had caught romantic feeling towards the Gryffindor boy. When they spoke, he caused her to relax and open up mentally, and she found herself making more mistakes and being more . . . human with him. The fact that she thought these feelings weren't reciprocated frustrated her.

"It matters to me. This isn't just about my parents approving of you. There is business to go over, rules to be set." She said firmly.

Harry groaned, exasperated. "Well, I'll do my best to not look like an idiot." Within, his nerves were running wild; this was far more terrifying than facing a Hungarian Horntail.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Good luck, doofus." She then checked her watch. It was almost nine o'clock.

"Come on. We're going to be using the Floo Network in Professor Snape's office." With that, she took off at a swift walking pace towards the potions lab. Harry followed as fast as he could in his stiff clothing. While he did not like the way the suit felt on him, he had to admit he felt taller and older, which is something he did like.

Walking swiftly into the classroom, Snape merely glanced up and nodded when they entered. He stood and strode to the corner of the classroom before speaking, Harry noticing that he too was wearing very formal Muggle clothes.

"Mr. Potter, Damien is a most serious man. You will speak in the most formal manner you know of and will try and act as smart as you can." Snape said, grabbing a small pot of ashes from his desk. Harry opened his mouth in surprise.

"You're coming, sir?" Harry asked, and Snape rolled his eyes.

"Of course. Damien invites his close friends and business partners to his Yuletide feast. It is a rather big occasion." Harry's professor said knowledgeably.

"Many others will be there. Hopefully, we won't have to discuss the contract in front of the other guests." Daphne added. Harry shivered but nodded his understanding. Daphne touched his arm.

"You'll be fine, Harry. Like Professor Snape said: just act as smart as you can manage." She said, and Harry sighed.

"Let's just get it over with." Harry said sorrowfully. Snape pinched a little ash between his fingers before passing it around and stepping into the fireplace. He looked back at his students.

"Potter, don't mess this up." He said seriously. "The people here today are some of the most powerful men and women in the magical community. Not to mention that two of them will be your father- and mother-in-law. Good luck. Greengrass Estate."

With that, the green flames enveloped the professor and he disappeared. Daphne went next. "Greengrass Estate!"

Harry closed his eyes and took a very deep breath, going over his vocabulary and picking out a few long words that he could use. Stepping into the fireplace, he threw the ashes downward. "Greengrass Estate!"

After the familiar push and pull of Floo travel, he was dumped heavily on his feet in the cold night air. Looking around, he found himself on a stone path under the dark and starry night sky, the path leading them directly to a massive manor some two-hundred meters away. Around him, the estate was covered with perfectly managed grass and trees, with flowers lining the path. Ahead, wizards and witches in groups of two, three or four walked their way to the impressive home.

Snape signaled for them to follow him as he strode confidently down the stone and began to issue instructions to the frightened Potter.

"Always keep eye contact to whom you are speaking. Use the term Lord and Lady when addressing Mrs and Mr Greengrass. When you meet Damien, shake his hand and bow down slightly. When you meet him, say something that indicates you are honored to meet someone of high wealth and class. Compliment the Lady's beauty." Snape said quietly as the neared the manor.

Harry nodded and gulped after Snape had finished. When they reached the front of the mansion, the door was open, and a servant or butler of some sort stood next to it. Said wizard studied them and didn't say a word, letting them in without question.

Inside, a massive glass chandelier hung over a marble floor. One either side of the massive room, a set of staircases led up to the second floor, and directly ahead was a large set of open double doors that led into what looked like a ballroom, with a long table set up down the middle. Harry's mouth dropped open at the magnificence of the place before it snapped shut after being elbowed by Daphne.

Snape led them past several groups of conversing, important-looking folk and into the dining hall. At the head of the table, there stood a tall, slim, blonde-haired man. His whole body seemed strong and stiff, and he seemed intimidating even from far away. Next to him was a gorgeous woman who looked to be in her late 30s, at most. She was brown-haired and gave off a confident air. Harry shivered as the mother looked their way.

"Daphne! Hello, my dear!" She said, rushing forward to embrace her daughter, who smiled and hugged her back. Snape stepped forward and shook hands with Damien Greengrass, who exchanged pleasantries with the potions professor before making eye contact with Harry.

"Harry Potter. It is pleasant to finally meet you. I am Damien Greengrass." Damien said, his voice deeper than expected. The man was a good three inches taller than Harry, who was hoping that his hands weren't sweating. He grabbed the man's extended hand.

"And it is an honor to meet you, Lord Greengrass." Harry said honestly. He then turned to the woman, who smiled pleasantly at him. He took her hand and kissed the top of it.

"And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Greengrass. I now see where your daughter got her looks." Harry said, smiling back at her. Apolline beamed.

"Thank you, my dear. You are far more collected than I presumed." She said with a knowing look in her eye. Harry chuckled.

"I do tend to be reckless at times, but most of my life I am like this. Again, it is an honor to meet you both." Harry confessed, earning an even wider smile from the Lady, who looked at her husband. Damien nodded with a look of content on his face.

"Now that you are here, we will begin the feast. The seating arrangements have already been made; you may take your seats while we address the other guest. If you would excuse us -" Damien nodded at them before walking off with his wife. Snape began to walk towards the table.

"Well played, Potter." Snape said. "But I would disagree. You are reckless 100% of the time."

Harry snorted, and Daphne squeezed his arm to remind him of where he was. She was incredibly tense, and she looked around somewhat suspiciously. They looked down at small cards at each of the seats, and Harry found that he was to sit at the end of the table next to Snape, with Damien at the head, Daphne across from him and her sister next to her. Apolline would sit beside her husband.

"Are you alright, Daphne?" Harry asked quietly as they took their seats. Daphne nodded hesitantly, and she took a breath.

"I just get uncomfortable when there are my father's business partners around. They're sketchy, at best." She confessed quietly. Harry nodded as Snape took his seat, and Harry noticed that there were a few other seats already taken at the opposite end. They were looking at him somewhat spitefully.

"When Damien comes back, you will stand back up and allow him to sit first. The reason the others are glaring at you is that they do not understand why you have been granted a seat so close to the hosts. They are jealous and afraid." Snape explained in a low tone. Harry nodded and breathed out as guests began to pile in through the door. Every wizard and witch had formal wear, and expensive jewelry all over. Most of them eyed the three people from Hogwarts with calculating expressions, and Harry began to feel very uncomfortable until he heard a somewhat familiar voice call out for him.

"Harry Potter! Fancy seeing you!" George Harde walked from one end of the table to the other in a flash, clasping his forearm against his. "What are you doing here?"

Recognition dawned on the faces of the other guests as they realized who he was, and quiet murmurings broke out from around the table as they found their seats. Harry smiled at the scout.

"That's classified, but when I can tell you I will. But, what are _you_ doing here?" Harry asked. Harde grinned widely and slapped him on the back.

"Damien and I go way back. We were on the same Quidditch team back at Hogwarts, if you'd believe it. Now, he's hired me to be his connection with the International Quidditch Association. Anyways, it's good to see you here. I'll talk to you after the feast."

Harry nodded and said a temporary good-bye as Damien and Apolline took their position at the head table. Suddenly, a young girl of indiscernible age rushed by them and stood next to Daphne, who had begun to stand. Harry realized that that must be Daphne's little sister, Astoria. The girl had blonde hair and a cute face, with bright blue eyes.

Seeing the hosts at the end of the table, everyone stood quickly, and once the two were seated, everyone else sat back down again. Damien clapped his hands. "Let us commence the Yuletide feast!"

Just like at Hogwarts, all kinds of delicious and expensive foods appeared before them on the table. Immediately, the guests entered into polite conversation and ate quietly. In all, there must have been 50 people in all in that dining hall. Harry himself took lettuce from the salad bowl and decorated it with all kinds of delicacies before beginning to eat at a slow pace. There was a somewhat awkward lull in conversation where they sat, before Harry suddenly tried to break the ice.

"Lord Greengrass, Mr. Harde mentioned that you used to play Quidditch back at Hogwarts. Is this true?" Harry asked. Damien opened his mouth to answer but Apolline beat him to it with a laugh.

"It's very true! Little Damien was a Quidditch star back at school. Best Chaser in Slytherin house." She said proudly. Damien smiled slightly.

"I would brag about my former abilities but it seems you've already found success as a chaser." Damien said, looking at Harry. "Tell me, how has the Quidditch industry been treating you so far?"

Harry tilted his head. "It's been alright, as of now. I'm not a big fan of the conferences or of the news outlets in general, but I do enjoy training with the squad and playing other teams. It's a dream of mine."

Damien nodded. "Do you plan on following that career path for the rest of your life?"

Harry shook his head. "It's great fun, but I know that Quidditch players retire just after 30 and bankroll for the rest of their life. That isn't for me. I am thinking about becoming an Auror or gaining a high position at the Ministry."

"That is a good plan." Damien admitted. "Although I warn you that life as an Auror is not quite the fantasy that you might envision."

"I understand, sir. I know it's a lot of hard work and dedication, but if I really want to do it once I've graduated, then I will." Harry said firmly. "Sir, this is wonderful idle chatter, but I do believe that there are important matters to discuss other than career paths and schoolwork."

Damien just nodded. "Those things will be addressed after the feast. Until then, I'd like to hear a little bit about you. I've heard some stories from Hogwarts that I think may be tall tales, but from what Daphne has told us, that might not be the case."

With that, Harry entered into telling the long story of his adventures at Hogwarts, leading up to the fight agains the dragon. Apolline acted with anger towards the Ministry for allowing an underage wizard in the competition, but Harry spoke up.

"Actually, Lady Greengrass, if I survive the tournament it will definitely work to my advantage. Because I have been forced to enter in this competition for adults, over the winter break I am going to Gringotts to hopefully be emancipated, which will help me better control my estate and financial situation." Harry explained.

Damien cackled on the inside, but on the outside he just smiled. "That is brilliant, Mr. Potter. You have a sharp mind, and if you are able to be emancipated, I'd say your plan is one worthy of a Slytherin."

The feast went on with more useless chatter about their classes. Soon, however, Damien stood and addressed everyone, telling them that the feast was over and mingling was allowed in the lounge next door. They all got up and moved to the lounge as their dirty plates vanished.

However, Damien and Apolline ushered Harry and Daphne into a separate room and sat down on the couch. Harry and Daphne sat awkwardly next to one another, and little Astoria left to retire to her room.

"Mr. Potter, you are a respectable young man with a good work ethic, healthy ambition and sturdy intelligence. I am sorry for the contract being created in the first place: my father was in danger of having our family's title being revoked for our rumored involvement with dark wizardry. He and your grandfather arranged a marriage contract between our families, and we were unable to do anything about it."

"You do not need to apologize, Lord Greengrass." Harry said quickly. "I understand that this was out of our control. I am just angry that Dumbledore did not tell me sooner."

Damien sighed and leaned back, emotion beginning to enter his features. "Albus Dumbledore is a very powerful and wise man. He is to be respected as the wizard who defeated Grindelwald and contributed countless discoveries in magical research. However, it seems that he has taken it into his own hands to play a god, and has meddling in your life since before you were born. He pushed for the contract to be signed for reasons unknown. Apolline and I do wish that you two were not forced to marry, of course. But we also recognize that it was a strategic partnership, and we hope that you two can eventually learn to love each other." He said simply as the two children blushed heavily.

"Er – thank you, Lord Greengrass." Harry said. "That is most kind of you to say."

Apolline beamed at him once again. He had taken a significant liking to her, and vice versa. "You may call us Damien and Apolline, Mr. Potter."

"And you can call me Harry, if you wish." Harry said in turn. "I thank you for your understanding in this matter. But while I know there will be a lot of legalities involved with inheritance and fortune, I respectfully ask you to rather than talk to me about it, arrange it all with a goblin named Griphook. I trust him with all of my funds."

Damien nodded to him. "As you wish. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we can talk again soon, Harry."

-oOo-

"I can't believe that I have to dress up so soon after that feast." Harry complained. He and Daphne were talking quietly in a private section of the library, days after the Yuletide feast and a week before the Yule Ball.

"Quit your whining, Harry. It'll be fun! We get to dance, you get to be assassinated for dating a Slytherin." Daphne said brightly. "How's that?"

"Doesn't seem too fun, to be honest." Harry confessed, setting down his book. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Well, just so you know, you haven't even asked me yet. What if I say no?" Daphne said, attempting to act aloof. Harry eyed her balefully. He did not enjoy the light banter they sometimes shared.

"Then I guess I'll have to ask Hermione." Harry said dryly. Daphne froze for a moment, jealousy kicking in and she glared at him.

"I was joking, Harry. If you don't ask me, my father will kill you." She said simply. Harry chuckled.

"I knew you cared, Daph. Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" He asked, closing his eyes and leaning back. She let out a sharp breath of air.

"Of course I - did you just call me_ Daph_?" She asked, shocked. Harry chuckled once again.

"Just a nickname, Daph. Don't worry about it." He said easily. His eyes snapped open when she smacked him in the shoulder with a book. Before he could retort, there was a string of incoherent words from around the bookcases. Sneaking around, Daphne and Harry watched in amusement as Ron was dragged out of the library by several Gryffindors; he had a lost look on his face, and was babbling nonsense. Looking for the source, at a table some distance away, Fleur was giggling with some of her friends.

"I can not believe he asked you! And in such a rude way." One of them said to her. Fleur just shrugged.

"Honestly, I was hoping for another boy to ask, but I believe he iz taken." At this, the other girls began to interrogate her in rapid French, but she remained silent as Harry and Daphne laughed quietly at the redheaded fool.

-oOo-

"Yes, Ms Granger and Mr Krum first. Ms Johnson and Mr Weasley second. Ms Delacour and Mr Diggory third. And – where is Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, lining up the champions outside of the Great Hall. Everyone else had already been led inside and was awaiting the champions.

As she said that, two figures descended down the set of stairs in front of the Great Hall. The first was Harry, who (unlike most of the other boys at the Ball), wore a Muggle suit and a forest green tie. His inner shirt was a diluted silver, and his hair was styled up above his head in an impressive bit of gel-architecture. The suit fit him perfectly, making him look tall and classy, and he grinned at the girls in front of the Great Hall who were looking at him quite appreciatively.

Behind him was Daphne. Her brown hair was done up in an intricate bun, and her dress was a sparkling, emerald green. She wore no make-up at all, but her features were so striking that even Fleur did a mental check-up of her own looks out of insecurity. The dress fit to her body, emphasizing her curves, and on her pale collarbone was a silver necklace. They descended the stairs in front of a speechless group.

"Mr. Potter and Ms – Greengrass, is it?" McGonagall said, absolutely shocked at the pairing. They nodded simultaneously when Viktor began laughing while Fleur looked dejected.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked his friend as they lined up behind the other champions. Viktor held out a hand, and Fleur sullenly dropped a few coins into his hand.

"I won the pot. Fleur figured it would be a girl from Ravenclaw, but I totally guessed that it was a Slytherin." Viktor said triumphantly. The kids laughed, and Daphne beamed at the other girls, who were mentally comparing themselves to her while also noting her beauty. They smiled and nodded back before McGonagall cleared her throat. "Right, time to go in. Off you trot."

With that, the champions filed into the Great Hall, not even marveling at the way they'd decorated the place. The students all began to clap and cheer when the champions entered, but they faltered when Harry and Daphne entered. To say that they were shocked was an understatement. There was a very awkward silence until Tracey Davis began to cheer again, and soon everyone else joined in. Most of the Gryffindors and Slytherins looked betrayed by their respective housemates, but Harry and Daphne were greatly amused by their reactions, and they easily danced the night away. When a Ravenclaw boy asked to cut in, Harry reluctantly agreed and went to sit down for a break.

As he sat there and sipped at some water, there was a small voice behind him. "So, Potter. You and Greengrass."

Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy sitting with his back to him. He turned back and sighed. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco was silent for a little while. "Honestly? Nothing. I just wanted to get away from Pansy."

Harry was also silent for a while before he said, "What's up with you this year, Malfoy? You haven't been picking fights at all this year. What happened?"

Draco sighed out of his nose really slowly before he confessed. "You bore me this year, Potter. This year, you've changed. You've gone and matured on me."

"Seems like you have too." Harry responded. "The Malfoy I knew would have still be going at me all year."

"Yeah, well . . . don't get me wrong, Potter. I don't like you. I don't like how you've been famous your whole life and get the easy life from the teachers. But I don't hate you anymore. I guess I sympathize with you."

"Sympathize?"

"Don't take me for a fool, Potter. I know you and Greengrass are in a marriage contract. It's only to be expected, since both of your families have pure-blood backgrounds. As I said, I sympathize with you."

Harry processed this information. "Oh. You and Pansy?"

Draco sighed taking another long sip of his drink. "Yeah. Found out just a few weeks ago."

"That's no so bad. It could have been Millicent." Harry said, and they both shared a laugh before Harry realized what he was doing. He couldn't believe he was joking around with his former nemesis.

"That's true. But still, you got Greengrass, and I got Parkinson. Now I have another reason to dislike you." Malfoy sighed. "But I guess that's how it's going to be."

Harry nodded in agreement as he watched Daphne dance with the Ravenclaw, and he once again felt grateful for being so lucky. "I never hated you, Malfoy. You just always seemed to pick fights with me."

"I know, I know. If it makes you feel better, I really did hate you. Everything about you pissed me off. But now that I'm stuck with Pansy for the rest of my life, I've kind of seen the bigger picture, you know?" Draco took another drink. "Don't get me wrong. I'm still a pure-blood supremacist and would you like you to not exist. But if this is how it's going to be, I figured it'd be easier for us to sort of work together on this."

Harry nodded in agreement before standing and turning. He extended his hand. "You've changed, Malfoy. Congratulations."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and stood, taking his hand. "Whatever. Let's just stay at a truce and deal with our contracts."

"Deal." Harry grinned before taking the dance floor and butting back in with Daphne. Once the Ravenclaw had left, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thank Merlin. I thought you'd never come back." She said, resting her head on his shoulder despite the high-energy song now playing.

Harry chuckled. "Was he really that bad?"

Daphne groaned. "No, he wasn't. At dancing, that is. He just acted as though I was Fleur and had some kind of allure."

Harry leaned in close. "Oh, but you do, Daphne. And it's working on me as we speak."

Daphne's breath hitched and her face turned red. "Shut it, Harry. Now is not the time for foreplay."

"It always has to start somewhere." Harry withdrew and smirked when she smacked him on the shoulder playfully.

"Whatever. What were you and Malfoy talking about back there, anyway?" Daphne asked. Harry shrugged.

"Malfoy and I have matured, and we talked about the depression involved with being in a marriage contract."

Understanding dawned in Daphne's beautiful eyes. "Ah. Him and Pansy. She's probably happy, but I can't imagine that he is. But I'm glad to see you aren't the same git from the years before."

"Oh, whatever. You know you like this git." Harry said, now trying to be aloof as Daphne often did. Said girl rolled her eyes.

"In your dreams, Potter." She said, resting her head against his shoulder again as a slow song came on.

-oOo-

"Come on, guys. Cut me some slack. I need to wake up early tomorrow, I've got business things to do in Diagon Alley."

"Not until you answer our questions." Seamus said, pushing him playfully into the couch in the fourth year boy's dorm. "You could have any choice of any girl in this school, and you choose the_ Ice Queen_?"

"Bugger off, Seamus." Neville came to Harry's defense. "He can do what he wants. Plus, have you _seen_ Greengrass?"

Harry blushed a bright red as the other boys took a moment to remember how Daphne had looked that night. They all began to strip off their dress clothes while Dean finally put the pieces together.

"So . . . a while back, when you got drugged, you weren't just rambling when you called Greengrass your fiancee?" The dark-skinned boy asked. Ron perked up in his bed when he heard this.

Harry sighed. "Correct. She and I are stuck in a marriage contract." He confessed. Neville patted his shoulder comfortingly while Dean and Seamus stared at him, open mouthed.

"I didn't know they still had those." Seamus said. He sighed. "Sorry, mate. That really sucks. But it could be worse."

"No, it couldn't." Ron said from his bed. The whole school year, he had somewhat withdrawn from most of is friends and instead become bitter and sullen towards everyone, especially Harry. "He's gonna get married to a _snake_. Can't get much worse than that."

Harry sighed. After he had made up with Hermione earlier, he had made it his quest to right any wrongs he'd done over the past year. But in the case of Ron, all he could see was that the redhead was being a git for no apparent reason. "Actually, Ron, it could. Daphne is actually very smart and very nice. It's your own fault that you can't see past your own prejudices."

"Shut up." Ron snarled, suddenly very angry. "Why do you have to pick a fight with me every time we talk?"

There was silence before Neville said, "Actually, Ron, you're the one that picks the fights. Harry's been pretty nice to you. Honestly, we've all been pretty nice to you. Something's wrong with you. What happened?"

Ron just huffed and slammed the curtains close around his bed, and the other boys were left to talk about nothing, so they all went to bed, as Seamus and Dean were content with the answers they'd been given.

-oOo-

It was snowing on the first day of the winter holidays, and Harry and Daphne were able to spend it in Diagon Alley.

It was a pleasant temperature, and large snowflakes fell down the bustling marketplace. Harry rushed ahead of Daphne, whose face was bright red from the cold and the running.

"Wait up, Harry! Why are we rushing?" Daphne said, but her glee stopped her from being angry. Harry grinned at her before grabbing her hand. On that day, he was just so inexplicably happy that he could spend so long with his fiancee.

"I'm excited! We get a whole day to ourselves. A real date." Harry said spinning her around. Daphne let out an 'eek!' at his actions, before he once again began to pull her along, towards Gringotts.

"Oh! Are we going to see if you got emancipated?" Daphne said, now understanding. Harry nodded.

"Yep. Then we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever we want." Harry said, tugging her along. Daphne's face grew even more red, but this time from excitement.

The two rushed into the bank, eager to get this part of the date over with so they could move on. Griphook was the one manning the desk, and upon seeing Harry he smiled, baring his teeth.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter. It seems your negotiations over the contract are going well. In other news, you are a fully emancipated adult as of now." He said quietly. Harry grinned and Daphne latched onto his arm joyfully.

"Griphook, if you could, I'd like you to manage all of the Potter funds and estates from now on, since I don't know how it all works." Harry said firmly. Griphook blinked.

"I'd be honored, Mr. Potter. I'll get to it right away." The goblin said. Harry grinned.

"Thank you, sir. But I have one more request. Remember? It's Harry, to you." With that, Harry and Daphne practically skipped out of the bank, drawing strange stares from the other creatures.

The next five hours was spent with joy. Harry and Daphne visited practically every shop, saying hello to fellow classmates and shop owners and getting sweets from a variety of different places. Going unnoticed by either of them, they would realize later that they held hands the entire time. The couple forgot about their worries for that day, and it was a complete success.

At nearly eight o'clock, they stopped, exhausted, at the Leaky Cauldron where they would Floo back to Hogwarts. They stopped to get hot beverages, and sat at a table, laughing with one another and sipping at their drink. Because Daphne's parents were away on a business trip in France, Daphne would be spending the winter holidays in Hogwarts, with Harry, which she found as totally fine. Now that their relationship had gone public, there was no reason to have to sneak around anymore. And it was for that reason that Daphne went in for the kiss.

It was from instinct. Daphne felt another burst of euphoria, and when they both stood to walk to the fireplace, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head in, to her own surprise. But what surprised and confused and disappointed her was the fact that Harry stopped her with a finger. She opened her eyes to see sad ones staring back at her, and Harry sighed before tenderly kissing her on the cheek.

"Sorry, Daph. Not yet." He murmured, before he Flooed back into Hogwarts.

Daphne stopped and froze in her spot for another couple of minutes, processing what was happening. Eventually, she Flooed back to Hogwarts, her eyes welling up with a few confused tears and above all, confusion.


	9. Part Two: Chapter Four

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **Sorry, I would've updated flast night but I've been busy. Hopefully you were happy enough with the four updates in five days. Also, look at my other story, **_Privileged Victim_**. It's better than this confused jumble of words, ideas and major plot inconsistencies. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

**_Warning_**: This chapter contains a somewhat **_heavy_** scene; as in, it contains a very **_mature_**, **_sexual_** situation. Don't worry, it's not a smut. Sorry if you're not into that, but because I know about the rules, I don't go into anything graphic.

Part II  
>Chapter Four: Christmas and Fleur<p>

Christmas Day did not quite summon the joy Harry had felt during his date with Daphne. It was not that the day was bad, but it did not make Harry feel that sense of absolute bliss that he'd felt in Diagon Alley. This was because he and Daphne's relationship had sort of grinded to a slowing halt; a limbo, if you will. It had started at the end of that wonderful date.

Harry closed his eyes and hit his head against his bedpost lightly, reprimanding himself mentally. He had completely rejected the kiss at the end, and to that day, in retrospect, he completely regretted it, knowing it was that moment that had caused his relationship with Daphne to stop. He glared down at the unwrapped present in his hand. Surrounded in ripped wrapping paper was a small pendant and a rather emotionless note from his fiancee.

All of his other presents had been excellent and made him happy. He received a book from Hermione, a pound of rock-cakes from Hagrid, and many sweets from his dorm-mates. Unfortunately, this year, there was no sweater from Mrs. Weasley, but Harry did not mind, as he appreciated the rest of his holiday haul. Viktor had gotten him a training-Quaffle, Angelina gifted a pair of brand new Quidditch gloves specifically designed for chasers, and Fleur had given him a small potion. He had yet to open the French woman's note.

Harry studied the piece of paper from Daphne he'd been given along with the necklace. The letter read:

"_To Mr. Harry Potter,_

_On behalf of House Greengrass, we gift to you an ancient pendant to signify our families' strong bonds._

_Sincerely, Damien, Apolline, Astoria and Daphne Greengrass."_

Although he tried to push the feeling out of the way, he could not help but feel disappointment. He had hoped for a more personal thing as well as the pendant from Daphne, but all she'd gotten him was the pendant. He also felt sort of awkward, for he'd written her a thought-out card and paired that along with some expensive earrings he'd bought in the Alley. But he shook off those feelings and decided that they'd confront it later, since they hadn't seen much of each other since the date.

After setting down the pendant, Harry picked up the final gift. It was the small vial from Fleur, along with her accompanying note. He ripped open the letter and read it out, having a little trouble recognizing the elegant handwriting.

"Harry,

Happy Christmas! My present to you is a potion to allow you to learn French: all you must do is drink, and in a few minutes you will be able to fluently speak my native tongue, and understand it as well. I brewed it myself, although Madame Maxine did assist me; for the potion is one of the more difficult ones to create.

I wanted to thank you for being so gracious in your interactions with me. It is most enjoyable be able to talk to a man without worrying about my allure affecting his mind. Again, I thank you very much: you are an amazing person. If you ever need _anything_, I will do my best to help you out.

Love, Fleur."

Harry's ears steadily were turning pink as he went through the letter, and when he saw how she signed it, blood rushed into his cheeks, and his body tingled at the thought of the beautiful French woman appreciating him. But as soon as those thoughts entered his mind, others invaded as well. He found himself thinking about Fleur in a number of compromising ways, and he found it rather hard to keep them out. He hit his head against the bedpost once again, reminding himself of his current situation. Whether she was intentionally flirting with him or not, Harry told himself that he would have to do his best to stay loyal to Daphne. He knew she deserved that much.

With his presents taken care of, he decided to down the potion right then and there before heading down to breakfast. Only a fifth of the students remained in the castle, including all of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Hermione sat at the table alongside Viktor and Fleur, but Harry remembered that Angelina was still stuck in the hospital wing for a few more days, and was unable to go home. Across the room, Daphne sat with her friend, Tracey Davis, and did not react to Harry's entrance.

Despite this, Harry sat next to Fleur in Angelina's usual spot, across from Hermione and Viktor, who were acting slightly closer than they had before the ball. No relationship had yet developed between them since then, but they definitely seemed closer in their friendship. Meanwhile, Fleur never spoke to Diggory again after the Ball, for he'd done some things because of his allure that Harry decided not to figure out. As he sat, Fleur smiled widely at him and touched his arm. "Good morning and happy Christmas, Harry."

Viktor and Hermione smiled and said their own greetings, and Harry grinned and nodded before turning to Fleur. In that moment, he felt a surge of confidence and decided to decipher what Fleur was feeling, especially because of her touching his arm. "Joyeux Noël, Fleur. Tu es très belle aujourd'hui, comme d'habitude."

Fleur, for the first time since Harry had befriended her, blushed a bright red while Hermione was impressed. "I didn't know you spoke French, Harry!"

Harry did not answer, instead opting to maintain eye contact with Fleur, whose face was still a strange shade of red at his compliment of her beauty. She smiled weakly back at him. "Merci beaucoup. Vous regardez incroyable, aussi."

Harry smiled widely at her, before speaking in English. And putting his arm around her shoulder."Thank you so much for the present, Fleur. I understand that it must have taken you ages to brew that potion."

Fleur shook her head, her face still red. "It iz not a problem. Anything for you." She gushed, before turning more red and beginning to eat her breakfast. Harry released his hold on her.

He grinned and turned back to his own plate, temporarily forgetting about his responsibilities with Daphne and instead enjoying the fact that he could make such a beautiful girl embarrassed. At the same time, Viktor and Hermione noted Fleur's once in a lifetime behavior. They, like Harry, had never seen Fleur so flustered before.

"Anyways, I was thinking we could spend some time outside, by the lake and try and figure out the golden-egg-clue." Harry suggested. The others agreed, knowing that the Second Task would come quickly. As they discussed that, Harry made up his mind to go and ask Daphne to go to the lake with him, and perhaps heal their damaged relationship.

Meanwhile, Daphne and Tracey were having a quiet conversation at the almost empty Slytherin table.

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?" Tracey asked. "You just said your date was perfect and nothing else."

Daphne shrugged helplessly. "I was embarrassed. Do you think I did something wrong?"

Tracey shook her head firmly. "No way. Potter just decided to reject a kiss with you for some – _what is he doing_?" She suddenly hissed. Daphne whipped her head around. Harry was speaking with a massive grin to the French part-Veela, and had his arm around her shoulders. Anger rose within the female Greengrass before a sickening feeling formed in her stomach when she realized the worst part of the situation. The Veela girl's face was as red as a cherry; something Harry had said had made her embarrassed. That was the thing that made her nervous and angry and jealous.

"I don't know what he's doing, but it sure looks like he's outright flirting with that girl." Tracey said scathingly. Daphne opened her mouth to disagree, but she looked again to see the two share a small, shy smile, and she growled.

"It does, doesn't it?" Daphne said lowly. Tracey glanced at her.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but the fact that he rejected your kiss and is now acting like this to the French girl . . ." Daphne then cut her off.

"I know what it looks like." Daphne snarled. Tracey forged ahead despite her friend's tone.

"Are you sure he said he'd stop dating other girls? You said he'd date you until you two were married." Tracey said obliviously.

Daphne turned on her. "Shut up, Tracey! It's bad enough that he's flirting with the most beautiful girl in Britain. I don't need you to tell me the implications of the situation!"

Tracey nodded, taking a sip. "Just saying. You and him really need to talk – oh, would you look at that."

As she said that, Harry had stood up and begun walking to the Slytherin table before McGonagall approached him. From their position, they could hear what she said.

"Mr. Potter, Professor would like to see you in his office in a few minutes." The woman had said, and Harry nodded. The boy turned to leave but cast a glance at Daphne that said, "I need to talk to you."

What scared him was the look of bitterness in his fiancé's eyes.

-oOo-

"Mr. Potter. Please have a seat." Albus Dumbledore said, gesturing to a large comfy chair in front of his desk. Harry breathed slowly out through his nose before obeying.

"Happy Christmas, Professor." Harry said politely. Albus smiled back at him, but the glare in his glasses blocked what the man truly felt.

"And to you, Mr. Potter. I believe you are now wondering why I have called you in here today." Dumbledore replied. Harry nodded, and his professor continued.

"I understand now that a confession and apology are in order. I deeply regret leaving you with your relatives that night, and I promise that I was not aware that you were being mistreated in their household until you pointed it out during our – conversation the night the champions were selected. I misjudged the situation. Again, I apologize first for that initial mistake."

"I apologize as well, Professor." Harry cut in suddenly. "I should not have handled the situation in such a way, and apologize for grabbing you and insulting you."

"You are forgiven, Harry. I understand your feelings. And now, I must sincerely apologize for the events that have occurred during your education at Hogwarts. I swear on my magic that I have not knowingly put you in dangerous situations. I used all of my power and influence but I was unable to overturn the Goblet's magic; if I could have prevented you from participating in the tournament, I would have."

"Thank you, Professor, for being honest with me." Harry said. Albus nodded, before sighing and leaning forward on his hands. Suddenly, his age became very apparent to the young man across the table.

"I am deeply sorry, Harry. If there is anything I can do for you to make up for how I have wronged you, please share it." The old man said. There was a long, thoughtful silence as Harry formulated an answer.

"Dumbledore, you are lucky that I am not the same Harry I was a year ago. I have shed off my boyhood angst and recklessness, and because of that, I accept your apology. Unfortunately, though I would like to, I am unable to forgive at this moment in time. While I am glad to know that you regret how you have wronged me, that does not change the fact that I was abused for the first twelve or so years of my life. No, I cannot quite forgive you yet. Thank you for recognizing the errors in your ways; but thank you especially, sir, for not using Legilimency during this conversation. It is gratifying to know that you are not always in my head. Good day, and happy Christmas, sir." With that, Harry got up and left the office, leaving Dumbledore speechless in his chair. How the boy knew he'd used Legilimency on previous occasions was beyond the old man; but he knew, for sure, than from now on, he would have to be more careful with the boy if he were to earn his trust and right his previous wrongs.

-oOo-

Harry wrapped himself in a thick sweater and sturdy jeans over his swimsuit before going out to meet his friends by the lake, bringing along his golden egg as well.

Upon seeing his friends, Harry smiled and set his egg next to a tree. They were in a nice, grassy spot next to the lake, where they had cleared the snow and thawed the ice in an eight foot by eight foot are, proceeding to heat up the water to hot-tub temperature. Hermione and Viktor were already in the water, while Fleur was busy finishing the spells that warmed the water.

"Whose idea was it, again, to heat the water up?" Harry asked smugly. Viktor and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"Oh, shut up and get in." Hermione said. In the some-what clear water, Harry could see her in a modest one-piece while Viktor wore the usual trunks. Harry smirked at the scene.

"Wow, Hermione. I didn't know you even owned such an immodest bit of clothing." Harry said, stripping off his sweater as Fleur stretched.

Hermione blushed. "Whatever, Harry. I do still happen to be a girl, and as a girl I enjoy wearing a swimsuit when I swim."

"Yes, did you expect her to be nude?" Fleur asked. As she said that line, she took off her Beauxbatons uniform to reveal the sight that would make any boy faint. Harry and Viktor were absolutely dumbfounded at the half-naked Veela before them, and Hermione seemed to have a jealous expression for reasons that were evident.

Fleur smirked at Harry in particular before dipping in the water. Her confidence boosted, knowing that she had Harry and Viktor wrapped around her thumb for the time being. "This is your punishment for making me blush this morning, Harry."

Harry shook his head out of the daze before grinning back. "I don't see how this is much of a punishment, Fleur. This is more of a reward, to me."

Fleur blushed slightly but refused to let the situation out of her control. She smiled back at him, knowing that to get the conversation back in her own hands she would have to embarrass Harry using her allure, which she did. "If you think _this_ is a reward, just wait. If you ever get me to reward you, you'll be lucky."

Harry smiled, but blush crept into his cheeks and he knew it was his turn to play. He stripped off his shirt and pants, revealing his physique in all of its glory. His body had the same affect on Fleur as hers did him. Her eyes widened, and she forgot all of the good banter she'd been thinking up. Harry slowly crept into the lake, before letting his hand down to the French-girl's bare waist and pulling her slightly towards him. Viktor and Hermione averted their eyes as Fleur's breath hitched and Harry murmured into her ear.

"I give rewards too, Fleur. Who knows? With the way you're acting, you're on the right path to getting one." Harry said, and she melted in his arms. Fleur knew she was completely under Harry's control.

"You win this game, Harry." Fleur murmured back. "So, what do you want as your reward?"

Harry smiled slightly and breathed in as Fleur fell more entranced with him. "I think it'd be better if you took your pick."

Fleur breathed out slightly. She could not describe the way she was feeling; it had never happened before. Her whole body was on fire with desire and adrenaline. The way Harry was playing with her made her feel so . . . excited and stimulated. She wondered what it was about Harry that was making her feel this way, and the only thing she could think about was getting closer and closer to him.

At the same time, Harry's mind had gone blank. He was feeling the same things as the part-Veela, and the feelings forced out any other thoughts, including those of Daphne and the contract and how much older she was. The only thing he could think of in that moment was of the beautiful girl in his arms, and now of the small hand that rested on his thigh.

Meanwhile, Viktor and Hermione were stuck in a very awkward situation. The way the other two were speaking were putting Hermione in a mood she was seldom in – a romantic one. She glanced over at Viktor, who seemed to be having the same struggle; not to mention the fact that they knew Harry was forced to marry Daphne. Viktor made eye contact with her, and slowly began to leave the lake and dry off. Hermione followed suit. When she glanced at Harry and Fleur, they were still softly talking to each other, and though the lake was just a bit to murky to see what was going on, she could guess that they were caressing one another.

Hermione shivered before quickly drying off. Viktor did as well, and he looked worriedly at her.

"Do you really know what's happening?" Viktor asked quietly. Hermione shook her head.

"No. I can't believe they're starting to do – those things!" The brunette blushed. "He's 14, and she's 17! Plus, Harry is betrothed!"

"Yes, but we don't know what Harry and Daphne's arrangement is yet." Viktor said. "This could be normal. Plus, that is not such a big age gap. And really, do you think Harry acts like your average 14-year-old?"

Hermione had to accept those solid points, but she glanced back at Fleur and Harry for a split second. They were not kissing, fortunately, but they were still speaking softly to each other, and both were getting rather red in the face and had desire written all over.

"Let's just ignore them and try to figure out this clue." Viktor stated. Hermione nodded, but the couple did seem to distract her. She shook her head and turned her back to them, deciding to let them continue. She had no right to interfere anyways.

"Harry – how are you doing this?" Fleur almost moaned. His hand was currently gently massaging her thigh, while hers was doing the same. Both had worked each other up to the point of complete lust. "I've never felt this way before."

Harry had no answer. "I don't know. I know for certain that your allure is at least somewhat affecting me right now, but I don't know why it is now and not before." He said, turning his head to look directly at the beautiful woman next to him.

Fleur gasped as Harry's hand traveled farther than usual, and she turned her head towards him. As their foreheads touched, there was a moment that they were frozen before they both passionately went for the kiss.

Just as their lips connected, something large and metal connected with the side of Harry's head, and he and Fleur were knocked from the side of their 'hot-tub' as Viktor's golden egg sank to the bottom. Whipping his head up fiercely at the Bulgarian, Harry glared daggers at him, accusing him of ruining him and Fleur's sensual moment with his eyes. Complete innocence filled the Seeker's face before he looked down in awe. Below, a golden-white light was emanating off of the egg, and Hermione pretended that Fleur and Harry's moment hadn't happened.

"Would you look at that? Seems that we've cracked it open. Do you two want to go and check it out, or . . .?" Hermione said. Harry blinked and tried to shake the lustful thoughts out of his head, but they remained there for some odd reason. He glanced at Fleur and noticed she seemed to be having the same internal struggle. Harry nodded before diving down, submerging his head to get a closer look at the egg.

Fleur submerged her head as well, just as the egg began to sing its clue to them. They both listened intently, memorizing the lines before Fleur snuck a glance at Harry's water through the water. What she saw was the same body she'd enjoyed when he first got in, but with an addition that made Fleur blush harder than she ever had before. Following her gaze, Harry looked down, realized what she was looking at, and tried to cover himself as he broke to the surface.

Once they surfaced, Viktor and Hermione were rather confused about why both of their faces were so red, and so Hermione asked, "What happened? Did you get the clue?"

Harry recited the lines back to Hermione and Viktor as Fleur stayed silent, still embarrassed about seeing Harry's 'situation'. Hermione reflected on it and nodded, saying that she guessed the champions would have to recover something from Black Lake, with a time limit of an hour. The others agreed, but Harry's and Fleur's minds were still sidetracked. Hermione announced that she would hike back up to the castle and visit the library to research anything that would allow them to breathe underwater, and Viktor hurriedly followed after having Harry grab his egg, leaving Fleur and Harry in the lake with their minds slightly sobered.

Fleur swam up to Harry and looked into his eyes. "Harry, I don't know what's happening between us, and I don't know if I like it or not."

In truth, she loved every second of it. Although she was now thinking more rationally, she could not get the feeling of Harry against her out of her head, and Harry felt the same way, but his hormones raged once again despite his embarrassment.

"Same with me. Sorry that you had to see my – erm – issue." Harry said, his face turning red again. His hands still covered that area of his body, and Fleur was once again reminded of what she'd seen. But this time, it filled her again with desire. As result, almost against her will, she moved forward and put his hands around his waist before pressing his mouth against his.

Harry's mind blanked again, and all he could think about was Fleur in his arms. As they deepened the kiss, Fleur suddenly pulled away and murmured, "Don't be embarrassed about that, Harry. Consider this as a reward."

With that, her hands began to wander, and when they reached their destination their minds filled with nothing but lust once more.

-oOo-

"I can't believe you did that." Viktor said simply. Harry shivered, and not from the cold.

Viktor and Harry were sitting in the stands of the Quidditch stadium, preparing to practice, the day after they'd figured out the clue. Harry dropped his head into his hands as Viktor repeated himself.

"I can't believe you did that. You're 14. And she's _part-Veela. _What you did is, like, _illegal_." Viktor said, almost in awe. Harry's head snapped up.

"Woah, woah! We didn't go that far and do – that!" Harry said, his face reddening.

"Then what did you do?" Viktor asked. Harry shifted in unrest as he slipped on his gloves.

"We didn't have sex, that's for sure. Let's just say I'm glad we were in the cover of the forest." Harry said. Viktor was silent for a little while before he suddenly began to laugh.

Harry grew confused. "You aren't going to lecture me about being too young and being unfaithful?"

Viktor shook his head, his laughter subsiding. "No, no. That's your decision, whether it's the right or wrong one is up to you. I was just going to ask – how was it?"

Harry's face turned even redder, but he answered. "It was amazing. She's very talented."

Viktor hooted again. Harry glared at him.

"Don't laugh at me when I heard from several people you and Hermione weren't just studying in the library after you left."

Viktor shut up and grew serious. "Let's agree not to talk about either of our situations again. Deal?"

"Deal." Although guilt overwhelmed him at the memory of how far he and Fleur had gone.

-oOo-

"You and Harry did _what_?" Angelina hissed from her seated position in the hospital wing. Fleur covered her face in her hands.

Angelina shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe it. You both know that Harry's stuck in a contract and is dating Greengrass right now."

"I know, I know." Fleur moaned. "But in the moment, nothing else mattered. We forgot about everything."

Angelina sighed and shook her head, despite her bandaged side. Then she looked Fleur in the eyes.

"You can do what you want, Fleur. I'm glad that you and Harry didn't have sex, but I'm mad that you went so far with a _14 year old_. You'll have to choose between keeping this a secret or spilling to Greengrass."

Fleur shivered at the thought of telling Harry's fiancé, who was known for being remorseless. "I just don't know, Angelina. I don't know why we decided to do that, but it was -"

Angelina now looked up at her curiously. "Yes, how was it? This was your first time, wasn't it? How did you do?"

Fleur blushed. "I think I did pretty well. We both enjoyed it. That's all I'm going to say."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Fleur, Greengrass may kill you for this, but you're lucky you go to do that with someone like Harry before you died. You can die in peace."

-oOo-

Harry was just finishing his Potions essay in the dorm when a sickening feeling really began to pool in his stomach. The familiar feeling of guilt.

He put down his pen and sighed, rubbing his face. His mind against went back to the thing between him and Fleur, trying to justify what had happened. When he had seen her in such an immodest bit of clothing, he knew that her allure was at full power. Looking back on it now, he definitely knew that the allure was affecting him, at least a little, but probably a lot. The hour following that had been the most pleasurable in his life, but as of right now he was still filled with guilt.

At the time, he couldn't stop himself. It was like his body was working against him, or rather his mind just stopped working for him. He'd completely forgotten about everything except for the fact that Fleur was next to him and feeling the same way he was. And their relationship had escalated so . . . quickly. Something had definitely changed in Fleur after the Yule Ball. He did not know what, but something had caused her to do the things she did with him. It was like they were using allures on each other; rather, that's what it felt like.

Before even registering the guilt about Daphne, he reflected on what that meant for him, personally. Before the school year started, he hadn't even kissed a girl, much less gotten a sexual favor from one. And yet, here he was, a few months, later, going farther with a part-Veela than any other 17 year old boy had gone with a normal witch.

Only now did thoughts of Daphne kick in. What was he going to do about this? He felt so guilty about what had happened, but at the same time the pleasure he'd felt seemed to force that feeling away. He knew it couldn't go on any longer; he would have to talk to both Daphne and Fleur in a long conversation; but not in any way at the same time.

What would Daphne think of him now? She'd be disgusted, for sure. Harry was even disgusted with himself, although at the time he had no control over the situation. Most of him wanted to eventually discuss what had happened with Daphne in an honest conversation, but a small part of him – a powerful part of him – wanted to keep going with Fleur and never tell Daphne about it, ever. He could continue to do whatever he and Fleur wanted, and Daphne would never have to know.

Harry groaned and leaned back from his essay, feeling a headache coming on. If Daphne had seen or heard anything about him and Fleur, he was a dead man, courtesy of House Greengrass. He couldn't let that happen, but he still didn't know what to do.


	10. Part Two: Chapter Five

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **To all those who have left because they don't like what Harry did in the last chapter; I feel bad for you. If you can't handle a little conflict to spice up with plot, it's still probably better that you leave now. Good riddance. :D Also, check out my other story **_Privileged Victim _**because I'm enjoying that one more than this garbage. As punishment for your rudeness, this will be a boring and short filler chapter. (I'm just kidding, this was bound to be a filler anyways)

Side note: To you who have sent me hateful PM's/reviews simply because you don't like the plot. If I remember correctly, I was the one writing the story, and YOU were the ones begging for me to finish it. You have to understand how hard it is to write a story that you absolutely hate. I understand if you want to criticize me in order to make me a better writer, but seriously. I've been working my ass off, writing for three hours every day to get this story done for YOU. Gratitude would be appreciated, helpful advice is obligatory.

This WILL NOT be a Harry/Fleur/Daphne. Just - no.

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part II  
>Chapter Five: Rumors<p>

Harry's first Ancient Runes class went by extremely easily and quickly. Having gone over and mastered the basic material, he was well on his way to completing the current course despite joining halfway through the year; he would've been put in the class earlier, but students found it easier to switch over from different classes at the beginning of the semesters rather than at the middle. He and Hermione found this class to be incredibly simple.

Because this first class was just a review period for the students to go over what they learned, Harry found his mind once again wonder as it always did in class. And, once his gaze settled on Daphne Greengrass in the other corner of the room, Harry's mind filled with the same emotion.

Guilt overtook him as we once again recalled what he and Fleur had done the day before, and for the hundredth time he felt horrible. He mentally berated himself, trying to figure _why_ he had done what he'd done.

He had never considered trying to be with Fleur in that way; but something had changed after the Yule Ball on Fleur's part. She acted as less of a friend to Harry, instead acting more as a significant other. At the time, Harry hadn't seen this, but in retrospect it was abundantly clear. So, something had happened to Fleur to make her force herself on Harry in that way.

But she wasn't just to blame, Harry knew. He had also participated in their session. And now he was back to his original question; why had he gone along with it in the first place? He remembered, he first tried 'flirting' back to Fleur as a way of testing what she wanted from him and help him become a better friend. But apparently, the situation quickly grew out of hand.

He hit his head with his palms. He knew he was betrothed to Daphne. He knew that in doing what he did with Fleur, he was a horrible person. But he genuinely did not remember anything at the time. When he and Fleur entered the Lake, only one thing was on Harry's mind, and apparently on Fleur's as well.

But _why_? Harry had never been affected by Fleur's allure before, why had he suddenly succumbed to it now? He had many theories; for as he looked back, he now understood that he wasn't making a 'sober', responsible decision. He decided that some other source, other than himself, had encouraged him to become sexual with Fleur while still being betrothed to Daphne.

What could it have been? Harry was in two minds, now. He realized that accusing an external source for causing his actions could just be himself justifying the fact that he was a cheater; a terrible person. But at the same time, as he looked back on what had happened, his mind had gone completely blank. The only thing he'd been thinking about at the time was how close Fleur and he were. Frankly, that scared him; he knew he had anger issues to work out already. But now with strange sexual desires coming on too, he knew that he needed help; that his mind was in disarray.

Daphne caught his gaze before Harry'd gone into deep thought, and she saw what he was feeling; for a split-second, guilt had overcome his expression, and as she watched him think she knew something was very wrong. She began to get extremely worried. The fact that Harry looked guilty, refused to kiss her and was flirting with Fleur all pointed to one thing. She forced her gaze away and glared down at her textbook. If Harry didn't speak up soon, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

-oOo-

Harry quickly left Ancient Runes to go to lunch, almost dreading when he'd have to face Fleur again. At breakfast and during their morning run, Fleur and Harry were determined to avoid each other as much as possible while not being rude. There were no words exchanged during breakfast, but Hermione and Viktor could feel the tension in the air. Now, as he entered the Great Hall and sat down across from Viktor, his dread grew as the French woman, with newfound determination, sat down next to him.

"Hello, Harry." She said casually, beginning to serve herself food. Not looking at her, Harry just nodded.

Hermione sat down next to Viktor. "Hello, guys. Harry, did you enjoy your first Ancient Runes class?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "Yeah. Pretty basic stuff."

"Yeah, pretty much. But Professor Babbling will kick it up a notch very soon." Hermione explained. Harry nodded.

"I hope so. It was a boring class today." Harry said. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I could tell you were bored. You zoned out have the time and had this weird look on your face." Hermione said.

"Why did you spend your time watching me?" Harry asked, slightly uncomfortable. "I'm not about to do anything weird at random times."

Hermione watched him carefully before her gaze flicked over to Fleur. Harry noticed and his face grew a bit red. "You know, from the way you've been acting this year, that's sort of what I'm expecting."

Silence reigned as they processed Hermione's sudden accusation. Harry put down his drink and leaned in slightly. "What do you mean by that, Hermione?"

Hermione ignored his deadly tone and forged on, deciding what needed to be said must be said. "Well, other than the fits of anger, your complete 180 in schoolwork, your general personality and your cheating on Daphne with Fleur, I'd say we can expect more unexpected things from you."

Harry flexed his fingers and Viktor tensed up while Fleur's face turned red with embarrassment. She glanced around to make sure no one was near them while Harry held a cool gaze with Hermione.

"You're making the same mistake as before right now, Hermione." He said dangerously. "I'm not going to forgive you this time if you keep stepping out of line."

Viktor started to cut in to defend his female friend. "Harry, she doesn't have to listen to you -"

"I don't think I'm stepping out of line." Hermione said firmly, keeping her cool very well. "I think this is what friends do. Look out for each other and set them on the right path. What you did was wrong and you must own up to it."

"Fuck off." Harry growled. "It doesn't matter what I do."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her own savage nature surprising even herself. "Oh? Then I guess I can just go let Daphne know what you've been up to -"

As she theatrically got up out of her seat and turned towards the Slytherin table, Harry felt another angry fit approach and decided to let it come. He grabbed Hermione's wrist and wrenched her towards him. She jerked in his direction, fear suddenly evident on her face. Before Harry could do anything, Snape set a hand on Harry's shoulder from behind.

Everyone froze. Viktor had just begun to jump out of his seat to assist Hermione, and Snape said quietly, "It's time we talked again, Mr. Potter."

Harry breathed out heavily and reluctantly let go of Hermione wrist. The part he'd grabbed was a cherry red with white finger-marks, and Hermione's eyes slightly brimmed with tears. Without another word, Harry got up and followed Snape, still seething.

Fleur turned to Hermione. "Why were you provoking him? You know he has anger issues!"

Viktor fixed Fleur with a glare. "Those things had to be said. I think there is something wrong with Harry, mentally. Really. He needs to get help."

Hermione sniffed pitifully, and Fleur's expression softened at the sight of the sad girl. Hermione wiped her nose.

"I fell so bad for doing that b-but someone had to." Hermione said tearfully. Viktor took her into a comforting embrace, and Fleur sighed.

"Fine. But you should not have scolded him in a public place -" The French woman reasoned but Viktor stopped her with another glare.

"No one saw. And don't think you've been let off the hook either, Fleur. You approached Harry knowing that he was already bound to someone else." Viktor accused.

"I was not in my right mind!" Fleur argued. "I did not mean to -"

"You're the one with the allure, Fleur. If anything, Harry's the victim of you."

Hermione suddenly jumped in despite her tears. "But Harry's always been immune to her allure. Why is he all of a sudden being affected by it?"

There was silence as they pondered what she'd said before Viktor spoke up. "The evidence points to Harry deciding to be sexual with Fleur while in full knowledge that he would be cheating on Daphne. But at the same time, I know that Harry has a good heart and cares for Daphne – I think something influenced him to make him do what he did."

Fleur was shocked. "Are you accusing me of -"

"Not at all." Viktor said. "I think you're a good person too. You said you weren't in your right mind, and I believe you. Now we just have to figure out what's wrong with Harry, in particular."

"I am telling the truth." Fleur confirmed. "It was as though Harry had his own allure."

There was a long pause as Viktor spoke. "Do you think Harry could be a Veela?"

Suddenly, Hermione giggled as Fleur snorted. Viktor knit his eyebrows together and glared at them. "What?"

"Veela charm is passed down through the females of the family. The only thing Harry could get from having a Veela ancestor is her good looks." Hermione explained. Fleur nodded.

"Unless you're suggesting that Harry is a female, then that idea may not be credible." Fleur said with a small smile. The tension around the table was slightly lifted as they shared a moment of amusement.

"What do you think Snape is going to do with Harry?" Hermione asked, feeling a little guilty.

"Probably just to scold him for grabbing you. He may get a detention, but hopefully he'll just cool off his anger by the time he gets here." Viktor reasoned.

-oOo-

"What do you want, Snivellus?" Harry snarled as he was forced into Snape's office. "Are you going to give me a detention? I'm so frightened."

"Quiet, you silly boy." Snape said, pushing him into a chair. "You are not in your right mind. I believe it is time we start our Occlumency lessons. If you want to be helped, you will calm down immediately before I make you."

Harry went silent as he sat in the chair, processing his professor's words. The anger slowly left him, and he was left with a slight headache. "Fine. I'm ready. Just so you know, we covered some Occlumency in -"

"I know, I know. I mentioned the idea to Moody and he loved it. But that was the most basic form of the art possible. With me, you will learn to control your mind, not distract an intruder who's looking for information. Voldemort will not use Legilimency to look for your memories; he will use it to tear your mind apart, bit by bit until you go insane."

"He can't. He's dead." Harry said shortly, and Snape shook his head.

"There have been whispers, rumors. I think he will return shortly." Snape said.

"You were a death eater, weren't you?" Harry asked, not accusingly; just stating a fact. Snape tensed but nodded.

"Then what're you going to do when he comes back? Surely he'll want to gather his followers again, including you." Harry said.

"I will act as a double agent, but you can stay rest assured that I am completely loyal to Dumbledore." Snape said firmly.

"But why? You don't trust him." Harry countered. Snape sighed as scribbled something down on a parchment.

"I don't, but I know that everything he does will eventually lead to the greater good of the world. He is a very wise man and will save as many people as possible. There are a few more reasons, but I will share them at a later date.

"I have just written an exemption for you for the rest of your classes today. We will begin with the harder part; the act of throwing someone from your mind. Traditionally, to do this, you will use the same technique as in Moody's class; distract the intruder with a memory of your choosing. Then, you will attempt to force him from your mind. It is extremely hard to explain, but from what I heard from Moody, is that you're a natural. I will now attempt to view the last conversation you had with your friends at lunch. _Legilimens_!"

All of this happened very quickly, and when Snape began to probe his mind Harry reacted on instinct. He focused on looking out at Black Lake, with calm waters and beautiful skies. Then, without warning, he sort of _shoved_ Snape's consciousness away. His professor physically stumbled back and nodded his approval.

"You are already proficient at that, which is good. If the Dark Lord returns, that skill will be necessary." He said, but Harry frowned.

"Professor, recently, I think there's something wrong in my mind. I've been having fits of anger, as you saw earlier, and have unusual desires to do unusual things."

Snape pondered for a moment before smiling sadistically. "Mr. Potter, that is called puberty. At this age, your body -"

"This isn't a joke, Professor. I think there's really something wrong. When I get angry, I get _angry_. I can't control myself. And afterwards, I get a nasty headache. I don't know what's wrong but something is off."

Snape shut his mouth and studied the boy in front of him, who was emanating a feeling of worry. "Mr. Potter, if you're truly worried, you can allow me to inspect your mind for the source of this anger."

Harry visibly hesitated. Snape sighed impatiently. "I swear that I will not see anything unrelated to your unnatural anger. I do not wish to see anything else that you do."

Harry eyed him suspiciously but conceded and nodded. "Do it." he said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. Snape readied himself before saying, "Legilimens."

As he entered his mind, Snape only had to search for two minutes before he found what he was looking for. In his mind, it appeared to be a black veil of pure evil; it was like a living creature, a parasite. Snape got as close as he could to the thing, and noticed that it seemed to have similar effects as a dementor; it resided in the middle Harry's mind, leeching off positive emotions and poisoning the rest with dark emotions. Snape got out as quickly as he could. Harry opened his eyes and looked at him expectantly.

"Potter, there is something extremely dark in your mind. It is unlike anything I've seen before; it is feeding off you positive feelings and inserting bad ones in their place. I will have to speak to Albus about this immediately. Until we figure out the identity of the thing, you must spend some time very day to practice searching through your own mind; simply clear your head of any other thoughts and retreat into yourself. Investigate what the thing is, but do not let it get to close. It could be very dangerous. You are dismissed."

With that, Snape left the office and Harry eventually did as well, puzzled and scared from what had occurred.

-oOo-

"Hello, students. I hope you are enjoying your dinner. As many of you know, the Inter-School Quidditch Tournament will be held in two months, just after the Second Task. I believe your teams have already been arranged; it is now up to your captains to begin organizing practices. Those are all the announcements tonight."

Dumbledore sat down and continued his meal as the students excitedly began talking to each other. Harry only now sat down next to Fleur and across from Viktor and Hermione, the latter looking guilty when Harry didn't utter a word of greeting.

"Harry I'm sorry about earlier." Hermione said quickly. Harry didn't react for a minute before he replied.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter." He said emotionlessly. Hermione wished she could press the issue, but knew she would only make the situation worse. Viktor changed the subject quickly.

"So, the tournament is coming up, eh? I'm excited to finally play you, Harry." Viktor said, genuine excitement in his voice. Harry nodded in agreement, but said nothing else. Fleur touched his shoulder gently, worried about his reaction.

"What's wrong, Harry? What happened with Snape, and why did he keep you from your other classes?" Fleur asked. Harry looked down at her hand, reminding him of many other things. Fleur quickly took her hand off, embarrassed.

"Just had a chat about my potions grade. He gave me another essay to work on and let me have the day to do it." He lied easily. His friends were suspicious but didn't argue. Harry continued, "And Fleur, it's fine if you touch me. I don't care."

Fleur blushed and looked down at her plate. "I just – I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be. It's my fault. I'll face the consequences when they come. Don't worry about it."

An awkward silence filled the rest of their dinner, until Hermione suddenly spoke up. "Oh, good news. Angelina is released from the Hospital Wing tomorrow. Why haven't you visited her at all, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Guess I forgot. I'll talk to her later tonight, before bed."

With that, yet another hand rested on his shoulder, but this time it was Moody, who asked him to follow him out of the Great Hall. Harry obliged, not bothering to question why another teacher wanted his presence as his friends looked on in curiosity.

Once they were out of earshot, Moody turned to Harry and handed him a small glass container containing something looked like seaweed. "This is Gillyweed. You can use it during the Second Task to breath under water for the 60 minutes you have."

Harry took it suspiciously and put it in his pocket before asking, "Why are you helping me, Moody? Isn't that not allowed?"

Moody laughed gruffly. "I like you and don't want to see you die during this tournament, Potter. And to hell with it if it's not allowed. You're not allowed to be in the tournament in the first place, and yet here you are."

Harry nodded in agreement before raising another question. "Professor, did we ever figure out who entered my name in the Goblet?"

For some reason, Moody's magical eye seemed to twitch and whirl. "No, not yet."

"Well, they wrote it on the basilisk hide from my second year. So if you haven't yet, I would check the chamber of secrets. Maybe that has a clue." Harry suggested. Moody nodded jerkily.

"I'll get on that, Potter. Thanks for the suggestion. You can return to dinner" He said. But as Harry walked away, he stole a quick glance back to witness his professor hurriedly downing a drink from his strange hip flask.

-oOo-

Harry was greeted by Angelina by a slap to the face and "You're an asshole, you know that?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his face. "Hey, Anne."

"Don't 'Hey, Anne.' me, Potter." She said sternly, laying back down in her hospital bed. "I can't believe you thought it was a good idea have that with Fleur!"

Harry sat down heavily. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

There was a long pause. "I have half a mind to go tell Daphne right now." She said. Harry sighed again.

"You could, but it wouldn't help anything. What's done is done. I feel bad about it. I'll address it with Daphne very soon. Happy?" Harry said. Angelina shook her head.

"I'm still not happy with you. Honestly, I don't care that you cheated on Daphne. Sure, it means you're a dickhead, but if you really did it while you weren't in your right mind, I'll wait to judge you. Honestly, I'm pissed that you decided to break up with me because of the contract and then go and let Fleur do that with you despite it." Angelina confessed. Harry blinked.

"You're – what?" Harry asked, confused. Angelina sighed and shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm just jealous, I guess. I can see why you'd want to cheat on Daphne with her rather than me." She said. Harry now understood, and shook his head.

"It's not that. I promise I really wasn't in my right mind when Fleur and I did those things. I also promise that if I really was a man-whore, I would have been a man-whore with you." Harry assured her. There was complete silence until Angelina suddenly began to laugh.

"I can't believe we're talking about this. You just made me feel better by saying you'd cheat on someone with me. I guess we're both terrible people." She laughed. Harry smirked a bit.

"Yeah, pretty much. But honestly, I wasn't in my right mind. I swear, it was like Fleur's allure suddenly started working on me. If I could go back, I'd decide not to do it." Harry promised.

Angelina chuckled. "You'd rather _not_ have gotten _that_ from the prettiest witch in Britain right now?"

Harry sighed, embarrassed. "Yeah, it's really weird, I know."

There was silence before Harry finally stood. "I'm going to go. I'll see you tomorrow when you're finally back on your feet."

"Sure, Potter. But if you don't talk to Daphne soon, I'm going to tell her. That's a promise."

-oOo-

"Daphne, we need to talk."

Harry surprised even himself when he went straight from the Hospital Wing to the entrance of the Great Hall, where Daphne and her friend Tracey were just leaving. Daphne opened her mouth to reply but Tracey beat her to it.

"Oh, finally want to talk, Potter? Took you long enough. Looks like you've been having fun with Fleur while we've waited."

Harry flushed red and panicked internally. They couldn't know about what he and Fleur had done, could they?

"Yeah, that's right. We know about how you've been flirting with Fleur for a long time. Everyone's seen it." Tracey continued. Harry almost breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Tracey, I can handle this." Daphne told her friend. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm coming to help. Let's go somewhere private." She said, before walking down the hall to the next abandoned classroom. Daphne and Harry followed in a line, before entering one. Harry sat on top of a desk casually while Tracey stood a few feet away with her arms crossed. Daphne sat in a chair across from Harry.

"So, Potter. Spill. Why didn't you kiss Daphne?" Tracey asked. Harry reddened in embarrassment and glared at Daphne.

"You told her?" He accused, and Daphne snorted.

"I did. She's my friend. Answer the question." She said firmly. Harry was silent for a little while.

"I don't want us to move too quickly in our relationship."

"Bullshit!" Tracey cried triumphantly. "How can you say that when you and Angelina snogged the day you began dating?"

"I said _our_ relationship." Harry defended himself. "Angelina and I were different. It was an experiment."

"What about you and Fleur? Are you just experimenting as well?" Tracey asked. Harry's ears turned pink.

"She and I are just friends. We haven't done anything." Harry winced internally as he flat-out lied to them. Guilt again began to fill him, but he kept it at bay, deciding that he'd wait to reveal that on a later date when he figured out why it had happened.

"Actually, it looks like you've done quite a bit. You've touched her in the past few weeks more than you've touched me in the time we've known each other." Daphne said, and Harry felt sick to the stomach. What she'd said was way more true than she even realized.

"That's not my fault, Daphne." Harry replied, but Daphne glared at him.

"It is your fault! I offered to move our relationship on to the next step when I tried to kiss you, but you knocked us down a peg when you rejected it for some stupid reason."

Harry used every ounce of will he had to not get angry. "My reasons are perfectly valid."

"What are they? Am I not pretty enough? Would you rather have Fleur?" Daphne asked, tears beginning to form. Harry growled.

"You're beautiful! I'm just not ready to do that with you!" Harry retorted.

"Why not?" Daphne cried. "I've done my best with you!"

"I don't want to fuck up!" Harry yelled. "Because if I fuck up now, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives anyway! I want to take it slow. I want to hold off for our first kiss because we are forced to live the rest of our lives together, and it doesn't make sense for us to rush into it now!"

"We're not rushing into it! It's just a kiss! Oh my god, why do you have to over think this whole thing?!"

"Just shut up! How about you keep in mind that I hate this contract, I hate this situation, and I hate how you are forcing me to do this. If we're going to get married, you can't force me to do things with you that I don't want to do!"

"Then why do you want to do those things with Angelina and Fleur?!"

"I don't! You're not listening! I want to fall in love with you, but it's hard! I've never experienced real love before in my life! You have to be more considerate and understanding when it comes to me because that's just how I am!"

"It's just a bloody kiss! Are you some kind of prude?" Daphne screamed. Tracey now wisely stayed out of the conversation.

"No, I'm not! I'm a fucking pervert, who has wet dreams and fantasizes about you and Fleur and Angelina and wants what every teenage boy wants!"

"Oh, whatever -"

"Just shut the fuck up now, Daphne. Please. I'm prepared to continue this relationship as it was; you're the one holding us back. I'm ready to move on. Talk to me when you're ready too."

Harry stormed out the door, leaving tears on both their faces. Tracey watched Daphne with wide eyes before she said the first thing that came to her mind. "You are both so blind."

**End of Part II**


	11. Part Three: Chapter One

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **Just needed to get something off my chest that I mentioned in response to some reviews; I'm 14 years old; in fact, my birthday was just a few weeks ago. People have told me that I should release that information because it might actually encourage some 'flamers' to be constructive in their criticisms. And the reason I've been updating so much as of late is because the day before my birthday, I had a surgery to extract an osteochondroma in my knee. As a result, I've been ben ridden because I don't want to risk popping my stitches. So, I can't say that once I'm back to full health that you'll get updates almost every night, as you do now, but I'll do my best. Keep in mind that as a 14 year old, I will do my best to continue to improve as a writer. OK?

Oh, and if I said something before about this story being three parts long, each part consisting of five chapters, it's changed. This story will now be four parts in all. So, there WILL be a part four. You're welcome.

Also, look at **_Privileged Victim_**, my other story. I like it.

**WARNING**: This chapter will contain another **_heavy_** scene; it will be quite sexual. Sorry.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.<p>

Part III  
>Chapter One: The Second Task<p>

When the cannon sounded, the water was a lot colder than Harry had expected. It acted as a kickstart to get him moving immediately. He glanced around.

During their previous meetings, they all had brainstormed different ideas, with different opinions on each of them. In the end, they decided to each do something different, but still meet up underwater to coordinate; above all, they valued each other's safety.

Harry glanced around in the dark, blue-green water. Viktor had done a half-self-transfiguration, and as a result, he looked to be half-shark, half man. Next to him was Angelina and Fleur, who both decided to use the bubble-head charm at the cost of their mobility. Harry had used the Gillyweed after researching it a bit more; it had grown him gills and webbed his fingers and toes, making him the ideal participant in this particular task.

Previously, the plan was for each of the guys to tow the girls along because they wouldn't be able to move well through the water. Knowing this was next, Fleur went to Viktor but found there was no way he could tow her along; his hands had transfigured to fins, and his back was grey and slippery. Looking for a solution, Harry gestured that she and Angelina both grab onto him from behind while Viktor lead them to where the victims were. They all obliged, but when Fleur wrapped her arms around Harry and he felt her lithe body against his, his mind once again went fuzzy.

He shook his head forcefully, ridding his mind of the obscenities, and Fleur did the same. Angelina then piled on top of Fleur, and because of the extra weight Harry slowly began to descend in the water; but because of how strong he was and his heightened physical ability, he was able to swim at a somewhat slow-ish pace through the water, following his half-shark friend.

The coolness of the water once again caught Harry off-guard. On the surface, it was late winter/early spring, with the snow having just completely thawed, but the air was still extremely cold, leaving the water cold as well. Harry shivered, and soon found himself unable to stop. Fleur figured that he was freezing and didn't want him to get hypothermia; so she rubbed his upper body with her hands, desperately trying to keep him warm.

Unfortunately, this did not have the affect she wanted; instead, Harry's mind began to grown fuzzy again, so he shook his shoulder forcefully to let her know that she should stop. She did, feeling somewhat guilty.

Finally, the floor of the Lake rose slightly so that they could see what looked like a scene out of Atlantis; below, there were Greek-style buildings, covered in fish and under-water plants. What worried Harry was the amount of mer-people swimming about in them. Unlike the stories, these mer-people were a territorial, fierce, and stubborn. They had been briefed as to what the Task would be and was instructed to treat the intruders like other intruders; if they attacked, the merpeople would retaliate.

And so, they were somewhat cautious of the group of four, for the one leading them looked to be half-shark and what bite and snap at anything that came too near. Soon, the group reached four figures, looking to be in deep sleep, tied with ropes to an underwater building below them. Of the four, there was Hermione, a little blonde girl Harry couldn't recognize, a young black boy, and Daphne.

Harry shrugged Fleur and Angelina off as he noticed a something small whizz by him before turning and focusing on the group. It looked like a miniature old-fashioned camera, with a small black lens that seemed to focus in on the group. Harry guessed that was so that the people above could watch them compete, and guessed that they were probably puzzled at how they were working together.

Viktor swam forward and bit the rope holding Hermione, cutting it cleanly, before taking the remaining rope in his mouth and swam towards the surface. Just as the other three drew their wands, there was a strangled scream. Whipping around, Viktor watched as something grabbed Angelina's foot as began to tug her away. With ferocity, Viktor let go of Hermione, leaving her in a floating limbo, and swam full-speed after Angelina. Fleur looked at Harry, scared, who shook his head and mouthed, "We're too slow. He can help her."

With worry still in her eyes, Fleur reluctantly nodded before swimming to the blonde-haired girl, taking her face in her hands and turning her head side to side, checking for any sign of damage. Noticing the similarities between them, Harry knew that they were sisters. He glanced around warily. He was not worried about the neutral mer-people; he was worried about Grindylows, something he was certain that had Angelina. He knew that Viktor was definitely capable of incapacitating a Grindylow, but at the same time, the Bulgarian wouldn't be able to cast spells due to his shark-head.

When the other two still hadn't come back, Harry nodded to Fleur, and they began to tow up the victims. Harry wrapped Hermione's rope around his waist while he sliced Daphne and the black boy's ropes with his wand. As he began to bring them all up while Fleur took her sister, a disturbance in the water caused Harry to turn around. Angelina and Viktor swam out of the darkness, with Viktor's transfiguration having worn off (for now he had a bubble-head charm) with panic etched on their faces. They turned and drew their wands just as a dozen or so Grindylows swam out of the deep, snarling and snapping their jaws. Viktor yelled something, and while it was muffled by his charm, Harry could hear it. "Take the others and go!"

Harry looked desperately at Fleur, who looked back just as Viktor and Angelina began to fight off the creatures. She swam to him and dumped her sister on him, forcing Harry to carry her up. She said, "I'm going to help. Get them to the surface."

Before Harry could protest, Fleur swam towards the other two, who were definitely having trouble fending off the increasing out of dark creatures looking to kill them. Harry winced at the weight draped over his body and began to kick up.

The swim to the surface was a long, excruciating process. His Gillyweed had begun to wear off, so he sucked in as much air as he could and held it as he inched towards the surface. At the last second of his remaining air, he broke to the surface, all four captives around him.

Cheers erupted from the stands about two-hundred meters away. He waded towards it as fast as he could, and when he finally reached the wooden stands that stood in the middle of the Lake, he hoisted all four captives onto the dock, all of them jerking awake the second they touched the wood.

"And Harry Potter is the first to emerge, with all four captives!" The announcer said. "What a turn of events!"

Harry took a very long break, breathing heavily for a full minute as the victims recovered before he remembered where his friends were. As Dumbledore approached him, Harry rasped, "Where are the champions?"

Before Dumbledore could say anything, the announcer said, "And it looks like the others are having trouble fending off the Grindylows! What a spectacle this has turned out to be."

Harry whipped his head up to see a massive projector shining onto a flat bit of white cloth, to be seen by everyone. On it was a third-person view of the three champions firing spells off into what looked like a wall of two to three dozen Grindylows. Harry paled before turning and swimming back to where he emerged. Knowing he had to save his strength, he didn't cast a bubble-head charm, sucked in a massive breath and let himself sink into the Lake.

Forcing his eyes open, he watched as the Grindylows forced his friends back, coming closer every second. With a burst of adrenaline, Harry pushed himself next to his friends and began to fire off every offensive spell he knew. His friends noticed his lack of bubble-head charm but would have to wait to wonder where it was; they assumed his Gillyweed was still working. With Harry's help, the group stopped retreating and began advancing towards the now uncertain group of creatures. With one last push, Harry yelled something unintelligible, and the Grindylow nearest to him screamed before exploding into a patch of blood.

There was a long pause, and then the rest began to screech and swim away, leaving the champions tired and kicking to the surface. Except for Harry. As he began to follow his friends up, he suddenly addressed the burning in his lungs, and he suddenly breathed in mouthful of water. Choking, he froze in the water, and Fleur just so happened to look back as his vision darkened and he lost consciousness.

-oOo-

"And the champions successfully defeat the clan of Grindylows! But it looks like Harry Potter has suffered almost drowning in the process." The announcer said happily with only a bit of concern as Viktor helped Fleur and Angelina hoist Harry onto the deck. Before any of the medics could get to them, Fleur stood and pointed her wand at the lying form of Harry and muttered something with, "_Aguamenti._"

Suddenly, Harry's head jerked up, and water flew from his mouth as he choked and gasped. He left his head cocked up for a few more seconds before he let his eyes close and dropped his head onto the wood. "That really sucked." He said weakly. The other three champions laughed before embracing their friend.

"So, it seems that the champions worked together to rescue their respective captives. The judges have conversed and agreed on each score. Ms. Johnson, for facing the creatures of the deep with bravery despite being almost snatched by one, we award her 42 out of 50 points. Mr. Krum, for selflessly going to save his friend in her time of need while on course to being the first one to return his captive is awarded 46 out of 50 points. Ms. Delacour, for staying back to help your friends despite your need to keep your sister safe, is awarded 46 out of 50 points. And Mr. Potter. For saving all four captives despite his need to stay back for his friends, and above all for going back to their aide despite having won already, is awarded 50 out of 50 points. However, for being the first ones to stay back to help their friends, Mr. Krum and Ms. Johnson will receive an additional four points for their courage. As it stands, Ms. Delacour has 79 points, Ms. Johnson has 62 points, Mr. Krum has 89 points, and Harry Potter has 90 points. Congratulations to all of you."

There was much cheering as the students began to leave. However, before they did, Angelina hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for saving her little brother Ryan, who was the black captive. Viktor embraced him in a manly hug to thank him for coming back in the end. And then Fleur went up to him. For a moment, they just looked at each other before Fleur enveloped him in a friendly hug.

"Thank you for saving my sister, Harry." Fleur murmured quietly in his chest. Harry smiled slightly and shrugged a little.

"Don't mention. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He replied. She just sighed slightly.

"Harry, we need to talk. Later tonight, at dinner." She said quietly and Harry nodded in agreement.

She unentangled herself from him before things could go anywhere and stepped back, holding her hand out for the little girl. "_This is Gabrielle._" She said in French._ "Say thank you, Gabrielle._"

The little girl looked up at Harry with wide eyes before saying quietly, "_Thank you, 'Arry Potter_."

Harry smiled down at her. "_It is not a problem, Gabrielle. You are welcome._"

With that, Harry and Fleur walked off, leaving only a few students behind, one of which was Daphne Greengrass. She was still wrapped in a blanket and talking to that Tracey again. Calmly, Harry approached her and held his hands behind his back as Tracey glared at him scathingly.

"If you're looking for some kind of reward for saving Daphne, look somewhere else." Tracey said rudely. Harry froze for a moment at her mention of a reward before he quickly shook it off.

"I'm not looking for a reward. I'm here to apologize." Harry replied. Daphne looked up at him. Harry continued, "I know a month's passed since I yelled at you, but I figured I'd apologize anyway. I'm sorry about yelling at you before. You riled me up and I'm sorry."

There was a long silence as Daphne stood to look at him eye-to-eye; unfortunately, she was still much shorter than him, so she had to look up at an embarrassing angle. She then sighed.

"I'm sorry too. I've realized that it wasn't just your fault. You're just being a good friend to Fleur. I'm not going to make you stay away from her." She said softly, looking him in the eyes. As she said this, the guilt hit Harry like a wrecking ball. He physically winced at how much trust she'd put in him; and yet he'd betrayed that trust on that day at the shores of the Lake.

"So, can we go from where we left off?" Harry asked, hoping Daphne had missed his guilty expression. Daphne had most definitely noticed but chose to ignore it. She nodded before suddenly grabbing in a tight hug.

"I know I was angry but I've missed you a lot." Daphne confessed, surprising herself at her own candidness. Harry hugged her back.

"I miss you too. If you're not doing anything tomorrow, it is the weekend . . ." He trailed off expectantly. Daphne smiled a little.

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you. But if you don't recall, it's my turn to chose when and where the date is." She said smugly. Harry groaned.

"Whatever. Fine. Just maybe no dragons this time." He joked, and Daphne chuckled.

"We'll see. See you, Harry." She said. Harry nodded and turned. "Bye, Daphne."

Harry walked off as Tracey glared at Daphne. Daphne raised an eyebrow at her friend. "What?"

"I thought we agreed it would be good cop bad cop, me being the bad cop." Tracey accused.

"It was." Daphne reminded her as she started to walk away. Tracey followed.

"Well, yeah, but I spoke like once. That's no fun." She whined. Daphne rolled her eyes, and Tracey broke into a smile. After a second, her smile vanished and she gave Daphne a questioning glance.

"Did you see his reaction when I said 'reward'?" Tracey asked. Daphne nodded.

"And did you see how guilty he looked when you talked about Fleur?" She asked. Daphne glared at her.

"We're dropping the thing about Fleur, Tracey. I trust him to be responsible and not do anything bad. So, drop it." She said firmly. Tracey met her gaze but sighed and nodded.

But on the inside, she knew she'd be keeping a close eye on Potter and Delacour. She didn't trust either of them one bit.

-oOo-

"Congratulations once again to our champions for completing another Task. The Third Task will be held in April. However, the Inter-School Quidditch Tournament will be held in two weeks time. Many of you have been wondering how there can be a tournament with only three schools; the International Quidditch Association has convinced the U-19 teams of five different professional Quidditch teams to play against us. These teams include the Chudley Cannons, Falmouth Falcons, Vratsa Vultures, Puddlemere United, and Yorkshire United. Now, tuck in!"

As they ate, their daily owls flew in and letters were dropped to both Harry and Viktor by the same owl. Confused, Harry opened and read his.

"To Mr. Harry Potter,

There had been a major setback in terms of your signing with Puddlemere United. The club has been accused of entering into illegal transfer negotiations and are being investigated by the IQA. As a result, I have resigned from my job as scout for Puddlemere United and am offering my services to be your agent as you step into the world of Quidditch.

With regards,  
>Joseph Goode"<p>

Fleur, Hermione and Angelina watched their male friends with a bit of concern. Both of them had confused expressions on their faces. Harry looked up. "Viktor, is that a letter from your agent?"

Viktor nodded. "It seems that Puddlemere has been signing invisible contracts with transparent clubs and other such illegal things. Looks like I'm not moving to Puddlemere this summer."

Harry handed him his own letter. "Got the same news. I don't know where I'm going to go, now."

Viktor looked over his letter and sighed. "These modern clubs are so stingy with their money. I think you should accept his offer, and then we need to take action."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he wrote his reply to Joseph. Viktor smirked and began writing.

"I'll get my agent to hold a public conference and I'll bring you, too. We'll answer a few questions and rile up the clubs. Get them to come to us, thinking we're close to moving to other clubs." Viktor said. "And if we do it soon, by the time those other teams get here to participate in the Quidditch Tournament, they can send scouts too to try and get us."

Harry chuckled as he signed off his return letter. "That's brilliant. You and your agent must get along well."

Viktor nodded. "We can send these later tonight. I can have the conference set up tomorrow; the media is always excited to get one going. After all, they haven't interviewed us in months."

Fleur and Hermione glanced at each other before rolling their eyes at their friend's obsession of Quidditch. They continued to eat until Harry suddenly said, "Viktor, in our first conference you said you were dating a girl that you'd met. Who is she?"

Hermione tensed visibly to Harry, Angelina and Fleur's surprise. Viktor sighed wearily, not noticing his female friend's frigidity. "I was lying. I find it is easier in those interviews to lie and say you are dating someone. It somewhat relieves the pressure of having your fans crush on you."

Harry nodded in understanding as Hermione relaxed, and he smiled at his smart friend. She blushed profusely and refused to meet his gaze.

-oOo-

"Ah, there you are, m'boy." Dumbledore said as Snape entered the room. "We have much to discuss."

Snape sat down in the chair across from him and waited expectantly. Dumbledore then said, "After investigating the aspects of what you say is inhabiting Harry's mind, I believe I have come to a conclusion. Voldemort created seven horcruxes at the height of his power."

Snape paled. Because he had always been interested in dark magic, he had done his research and consequentially stumbled across horcruxes before. He knew they were the darkest of magic, made of pure evil and malice.

"One of which was the diary Harry destroyed in his second year. However, I believe that when he tried to murder Harry as a child, the spell rebounded for some reason and tore another piece of Voldemort away from his body. I think that piece latched onto the closest living thing, which was Harry, and has been lying dormant for years."

"If that is true, then why hasn't it influenced the boy before?"

"You and Karkaroff know that Voldemort is gaining strength. I think that with every bit of power he receives, the more influence he has over Harry's mind. But I also think that Voldemort is not aware that Harry is a horcrux; if he was aware of their link, he would have driven Harry insane or forced him to do something horrible. No, I think that Voldemort's desires are leaking through his link with him and influencing Harry to do things that the Dark Lord is thinking about doing."

"So when Potter gets his random fits of anger-"

"It's not that Voldemort is angry at that particular time; it's that the excess anger he possesses is going to Harry, through that horcrux; the dark spot in his mind."

"Then what do we do, Albus?"

"I know you have been trained the boy once. You must continue to do so, and you must make sure the Dark Lord is not aware of their link."

"I'll get right to it. But, sir . . . if Voldemort's feelings affect Potter, then why not the other way around?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think Harry is a powerful enough Legilimens to having his emotions reach out on their own. What we have to do is keep a close eye on Harry. Voldemort is weak at the moment, but evidently has had a large influence on Harry's emotions. When – and I say when – Voldemort rises to full power again, I do not know what Harry will do."

-oOo-

"Alright, Fleur. Come on." Harry said to his friend quietly in her ear. Against her will, her whole body tingled as Harry walked out of the Great Hall and to the next empty classroom. He made it so that no one could listen in or come in, and he sat on one of the desks as he had done with his talk with Daphne. Fleur mirrored his posture and sighed.

"I don't know what happened between us." Fleur admitted.

"Me neither. Your allure has never affected me before." Harry agreed.

Fleur sighed. "And it was as though you had an allure of your own. My mind went completely blank and it was like you were the only thing in the world."

Harry shivered. "It was exactly the same with me. Could it have been with how close we were to each other?"

"We sit next to each other at lunch every day." Fleur reminded him. Harry conceded the point.

"Alright. Well, could it have been the fact that we were both dressed – er – in our swimsuits?" Harry asked. Fleur shrugged.

"It could, but at the same time we both know these aren't normal, teenage feelings towards each other. Something else is at work here." She said.

"I agree, but at the same time something must have triggered it." Harry insisted.

"Well, how do we figure out what triggered it?" Fleur asked, ideas forming in her head. She blushed at her own thoughts and Harry seemed to read her mind.

"I know what you're thinking, but we will use that as a last resort." Harry said immediately. He was a bit pissed that those thoughts had come to him just as quickly, and he mentally berated himself for having covetous thoughts.

"Right. Sorry." Fleur said sheepishly. There was a pause as Harry debated whether or not to tell her, but he did anyway.

"Right, so, you know what Occlumency is, right?" Harry asked. When Fleur nodded, he continued. "You and I both know I've been getting weird fits of anger this year. I think that the anger and the sexual desire is connected. I had Professor Snape look into my mind and he saw something weird, and I haven't taken a second glance at it yet. We both think it has something to do with my weird personality disorder. I think I should look closer at it to figure out what it is."

Fleur thought about it and nodded. "Do it. I'll be waiting here."

Harry nodded and breathed deeply and remembered Snape's instructions. His life had been so busy for the past couple months, so he had had no time to practice Occlumency, but he tried to find the black spot anyway. He cleared everything from his mind and imagined his thoughts as a landscape. Suddenly, he felt as though he'd been dropped on his feet, and he felt like he was floating.

He was in a dark forest surrounded by trees. Each tree had dark green leaves capping it off, and in each of those leaves was a memory; something that had happened to Harry in his life. He looked down to see a dirt path forming beneath his feet; he immediately began walking along it.

The forest grew much, much darker until it was almost pitch black. A soft glow emanated from each of the leaves, and Harry caught sight of one particularly dark time in his childhood. He looked away and moved on. Then he saw it.

It was a gnarled, massive tree that gave off a sinister feeling. Its large branches extended far, far over his head, and he saw happy memories move along the branches and into the old tree.

Harry shivered as he approached it. Evidently, it was sucking in happy memories. He looked down. Its roots extended far across the grass, and he touching those; dark leaves traveled along it. He walked up to the trunk of the tree and felt himself grow cold. This was the blak spot Snape had spoke of; it was feeding off his good feelings and giving off bad ones.

Hesitantly, Harry reached his hand out. The minute he touched it, his mind exploded in a million sensations at once. He found himself lying on the floor of the abandoned classroom, Fleur leaning over him. The strands of hair fell around her face, and Harry felt his eyes glance just below her collar bone. Fleur narrowed her eyes.

"Harry, are you alright – mmph!"

She was cut off when Harry covered her mouth with one hand and held her still with the other. She tried to jerk her head back, but found that Harry was far to strong. With fear coursing through her, she looked her friend in the eyes and saw nothing but desire filling the green orbs.

Immediately, Fleur's whole body tingled as Harry slowly stood, dragging Fleur with him, roughly shoving her against the wall, still covering her mouth. Then, he smiled.

"I found it. Do I get a reward?" He murmured, still pressing her against the wall with his hand on her mouth. Fleur arched her back as Harry reached down and moaned into his hand. He smiled wider and let his hand away from her mouth. Immediately, she lunged forward and pressed her face against his, breathing heavily as his other hands moved sensually.

Within, Fleur was thinking of nothing but the tingling in her whole body and the feeling of Harry's hand against her stomach, working its way down. She moaned into his mouth, knowing its next destination.

In Harry's mind, there was absolutely nothing but the feeling of Fleur's body against his and her lips attacking his own. His lower hand moved like it knew what to do on its own as Fleur arched her head back and moaned again.

"I missed this so much." Harry said lowly, kissing Fleur's neck and working his way down and he continued to move his other hand.

"Oh my god . . . Harry . . ." Fleur whispered. For a split second, Harry's mind returned to his normal state, but there was only enough time to say one thing.

"I'm sorry Fleur – there's no way to stop it." He whispered, before his mind went blank once again. The kissed again, grinding and touching and groping and they both knew that there was nothing to stop them from making a mistake this time.

-oOo-

"Tracey . . . what are you doing?" Daphne groaned as Tracey tugged her friend out of the Great Hall. Tracey had a very determined look on her face.

"I want to show you something." She said firmly. Unbeknownst to her friend, Tracey had seen Potter and the French girl leave and go into the hallway.

"But I'm tired." Daphne whined. "Is this about Harry again?"

There was silence until Tracey confessed, "I saw him and Delacour walk this way, out of the Great Hall. None of the dorms are this way."

Daphne groaned. "I already told you, Tracey. Just drop it. They're probably just going to start training for the Third Task with the other champions, like they have been doing for you know, the past year."

"Then why haven't the Bulgarian and Johnson gone this way too?" Tracey asked, leading her down the hallway. She stopped suddenly at the abandoned classroom they had used to talk to Potter months ago. "I think they're in there."

Daphne sighed, really annoyed. "Just drop it, Tracey. I know you don't like Potter, but I trust him enough to not do anything stupid. Now, can we just go to bed?"

Tracey hesitated, but then glared at the door. She turned the handle, but it was locked. She crossed her arms.

"Daphne, this door is always unlocked." Tracey said. Daphne growled and grabbed her arm.

"Listen, Tracey. I don't bloody care. I'm tired and I said I trust Harry. Can you just give up already? This whole things where you hate Potter for no reason is immature and stupid."

Tracey glared at her friend and wrenched her arm from her grasp. As she turned to the door and pulled out her wand, Daphne huffed and started leave. Just before Tracey could utter the unlocking spell, Daphne said over her shoulder, "If you unlock that door, I am not going to consider you a friend anymore. I trust Harry. If you don't trust Harry, then I can't trust you."

Tracey froze. After a minute longer of just glaring at the door, she sheathed her wand and stalked after her friend. Daphne may be stubborn, but Tracey knew that she would get to the bottom of whatever was making Potter feel guilty.


	12. Part Three: Chapter Two

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

**A/N: **You guys seem to irrationally hate Harry for doing something he can't control. Sort of like when you PM me, threatening me to put out chapters 'or else'. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So, I've uploaded two chapters. In onE DAY. You're welcome. Anyways, check out my other story, _**Privileged Victim**_, and enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part III  
>Chapter Two: The Public Eye<p>

The thing that scared Harry the most about he and Fleur having sex was the fact that they acted so casual towards each other afterwards.

It was as though it had never happened; in fact, it was as though they'd never even touched each other in the Lake in the first place while they were figuring out the golden egg's clue. After it had happened, Harry had returned to a sober state and rushed out, feeling very guilty. Not to say he didn't feel guilty now; but as of now, he knew what was causing his bouts of anger and sexual desire, and now that Snape had given him a schedule to start regularly training him in Occlumency, he was sure that he could prevent further 'accidents' from happening, and eventually forget his bouts with Fleur completely.

But he knew he'd never forget. They had spent hours in that classroom, exploring each other and themselves. It was something neither of them would easily let go of. The reason they both seemed so calm about it was because, as mentioned earlier, they knew it just wasn't them. The thing neither of them addressed, though, was why Fleur experienced the same strange feeling Harry did. There was no way she could be influenced by the strange plague in Harry's mind.

Harry would ask her about that later. He heard some snaps in front of his face and blinked, realizing that Angelina was clicking her fingers at his nose. "What – what?" Harry said strangely, as though he'd just woken up.

"What's up with you?" Angelina asked, returning back to her breakfast. "And where's Fleur?"

Harry blushed, despite the fact that he knew what they'd would have to totally top-secret. "Why should I know?"

Angelina eyed him warily. "Er – right, you wouldn't know. Anyways, when is that conference thing, and where?"

"My agent has spoken to Dumbledore, and they've agreed to do it here, in the Great Hall. The students are allowed to come as well." Viktor spoke up. "It'll be just before lunch, so in two hours. Harry and I will be on the panel, and if you'd like, you can be as well, Angelina."

Angelina blinked. "What – me? No, no. I'm not ready to be in the public eye."

"Too late. You are. And so am I." Hermione said, anger evident in her voice. She handed her friend the Daily Prophet, and on the front page, the headline said, "Harry Potter's Circle of Girls". Harry looked over her shoulder at the newspaper. On it were four large pictures; one in which Harry had kissed Angelina after the tryouts, another where he was dancing with Daphne at the Yule Ball, the third of Harry and Hermione hugging after they'd become friends again, and lastly a photo of Harry helping Fleur into the Lake, the day he'd figured out the clue along with his friends; however, Viktor and Hermione were not shown. In the last picture, they were both in their swimsuits; around the Great Hall, both boys and girls were drooling and studying that picture, looking at one of two people pictured. The article read:

_As it turns out, young England international Quidditch star Harry Potter does not only score on the pitch as a Chaser but off it as well! Only in the last school year, young Harry was seen with the following four young witches. Angelina Johnson, a talented chaser as well, depicted kissing the Quidditch star after the tryouts for the Hogwarts School Team. Daphne Greengrass, oldest child of the rumored dark family attended the Yule Ball with him. Hermione Granger, muggle-born and smartest witch in her class, hugging Harry as she professed her undying love for him. Lastly, and most controversially, Fleur Delacour, French witch and Veela who, according to his classmates, has on many occasions flirted with the poor boy and rendered him useless with her Veela charm. We can only hope that she stops seducing the young man and gives him a chance to find real love._

_To add to the drama, Hermione Granger attended the Yule Ball with none other than Viktor Krum, Bulgarian superstar and fierce rival of Harry's. It seems to my readers that she is playing the field, and those around her say she is a very selfish and manipulating girl who is smart enough to brew a love potion and use it on either of the famous Quidditch players. _

_Although Harry did date Angelina Johnson officially at the beginning of the year, their housemates have said that they had a fierce break up resulting in a fight between many in their dorm! Indeed, they broke up only days after the Chudley Cannons approached her to play as a substitute for their team next season. It is speculated that she used Harry's fame to boost her own reputation, and subsequently dumped him after the deed was done._

_Daphne Greengrass's family is rumored to be on the side of the dark and their history is shady at best; descended from an almost spotless pureblood line, I and my readers wonder if perhaps she used her father's power as Ambassador to France and a holder of a seat on the Wizengamot to blackmail poor Harry into attending the Yule Ball with her; after all, their appearance together did come out of the blue, and they haven't been seen together since. _

_And of course, there is Fleur Delacour. She is of wealthy French ancestry, with her grandmother being the first Veela in the family; thus giving her that Veela charm she has ensnared Harry with. I only hope that she sets her eyes on someone other than our beloved savior and instead seduce a vampire or some other beast to bed with._

_With Harry caught in the middle of this whirlwind of women, we can only hope that he can resist all of their advances._

_-Rita Skeeter_

"This is the first time I've read something more stupid than the Divination textbook." Harry observed lightly as his female friends fumed in rage.

"How could she even have that picture?" Hermione cried, pointing at the one of her and Harry. "It was in between classes, and there was no one around us! Plus, we didn't even mention the word love!"

"I can't believe that bitch is accusing me of using you for your fame." Angelina said in disbelief. "The scout approached me; Harry, you didn't have to convince him for me or anything!"

"I know, I know." Harry sighed. "It's just a stupid article. I don't even know why it's not on _Teen Witches Weekly_ instead. Besides, who reads _the Daily Prophet_?"

The group glanced around. All across the Great Hall, most of the students (and almost all of the female students) had their eyes glued to the newspaper in front of them. Harry sighed and took back his statement until he realized Fleur was crying.

"Woah, woah. Fleur. Stop crying." Harry said softly, putting his arm around her shoulders and hugging her closer. At his touch, she leaned into him and buried her face in his chest. Harry just took this into his stride and patted her back as students glanced at them.

"Hey, Fleur. It's alright. None of that is true." Harry murmured. Fleur shook in his arms.

"But it kind of is." Fleur whispered. She looked up at him tearfully. "It's my fault that we had sex. My allure pulled you in. I am sorry you could not save yourself for the woman you really wanted. I'm sorry."

Harry looked around. Many students were listening in, but by their expressions they hadn't heard anything important. Harry glared. "Haven't you got something better to do? Leave it alone."

One of the girls at another table whispered loudly to her friends. "I agree with Skeeter. The Veela bitch has been stealing Harry's attention all year. I wouldn't be surprised if she raped him yet."

Harry's blood boiled but he ignored everything that was said. Instead, he stood up, taking his French friend with him. He gave her another hug before gesturing to Angelina.

"Anne, bring Fleur up to the common room. I'm going to have a chat with Dumbledore." Harry said. Angelina did, leading the crying woman out of the Great Hall, eyes following them all the way. Harry then strode up to the front table and addressed Dumbledore.

"Professor, I'd like to know who this Rita Skeeter woman is and I want her arrested, or fined for slander." Harry stated firmly. Dumbledore smiled sadly, showing that he (as well as most of the professors) had read the article.

"I am very sorry that she attacked you friends in that way, m'boy, but we cannot do that. There are no laws against slander in the wizarding world." He explained.

Harry sighed angrily. "Well, then let's get her arrested for being on school grounds without your permission! There's not way she could have gotten these photos without sneaking around school during school time."

"M'boy, we can't just -"

Harry leaned in and spoke quietly, cutting him off. "Listen, Dumbledore. You asked me how you could make it up to me. This won't make me forgive you, but it's a damn good place to start."

Albus looked up at the young man before him. Harry really had grown up; the fact that he was giving the old man a chance displayed his maturity. He simply nodded and Harry nodded back.

"I'd like you to know that I'm contacting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and am accusing her of invading my privacy and being on Hogwarts grounds during school time without any staff's permission. Good day, professors."

With that, he left the front of the room, aware of all the eyes on him. As he left, Hermione and Viktor joined him, and he looked at Daphne and jerked his head. She quickly got up and followed them out.

When they were out, Harry turned and spoke to Daphne, who looked at least a little pissed. "I hugged Daphne a few months ago because we both apologized for ruining our friendship. You can ask her for confirmation. You saw Angelina and I kiss all those months ago. And Fleur -"

"Let me guess – one of those 'training sessions' you have?" Daphne asked bitterly. Harry sighed.

"That picture was taken out of context. If she hadn't cropped the photo, you would see Hermione and Viktor in the Lake as well. You can ask them yourself; all we did was figure out the egg clue."

There was silence as Daphne looked up expectantly at Viktor and Hermione. Viktor nodded gruffly saying, "We were there. We figured out the egg clue."

Daphne turned back to Harry. "Fine. We'll talk more tonight. Slytherin common room. Eight o'clock."

Harry nodded and hugged her. "Sorry, Daphne. I'll see you there."

Daphne quickly hugged him back before she joined Tracey and they went up the stairs. Viktor touched Harry on the shoulder and steered him down the hall.

"Listen, Harry. That was close. I am not going to lie to your fiancé; consider yourself lucky that all I had to do was stretch the truth." He said lowly to Harry, who nodded apologetically.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm going to confront Daphne about what happened between us as soon as I get my head checked out; I know what's causing my personality to be so out of whack, and I'm working with Snape to fix it. Alright?"

Viktor reluctantly nodded as Hermione knit her eyebrows together. "Harry, did something happened between you and Fleur last night?"

Harry whipped his head around but tried to remain calm. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you guys seemed way less awkward today. Did you talk it out yesterday?" Hermione asked. Harry cursed her curiosity before nodding and stretching the truth even more.

"Yeah, we met last night before curfew and we figured it out. It's fine now." Harry said vaguely. Hermione wasn't a fan of the obscurity of his answer, but reluctantly accepted it.

"Anyways, come one, Viktor. Let's talk to Fleur and then get ready for that conference thing. We have a lot to settle with the public." Harry said, heading up to the common room.

-oOo-

Two hours later, Harry entered the Great Hall with Viktor and Angelina in his casual wear; slim black jeans and a big hoodie; the only hoodie he had left, since he'd given his green one to Daphne. This one sported a large Arsenal badge on the front; the only muggle sports team he knew and liked.

Viktor wore a similar outfit, and Angelina wore her own jeans and a Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Inside the Great Hall, all the reporters had already arrived, and the students who wished to watch had come to; around three quarters of the school's population. They all turned at once and began shouting questions at him. Thankfully, two men came bustling through the crowd. Harry recognized Joseph Goode, but not the other man, although he was evidently Viktor's agent.

"Let's get to the table." Joseph said before turning and shoving his way through the reporters. The other man helped, and eventually they made it to the head table. Harry took a seat in the middle with Angelina on his right and Viktor on his left. Joseph smiled at him and shook his hand.

"I'm glad you accepted my request, Harry. It'll be an honor to work with you."

"Don't mention it, Joe." Harry said, shortening the man's first name. "I hope we can work well together in the future."

Joseph nodded in agreement before standing next to Angelina and raising his hands. "If you'd all stop yelling like a bunch of useless monkeys, we can finally start the conference." He called out. Immediately, all the reporters went silent and filed into their seat, though camera still flashed. There were around two dozen in all, with all of the student section in the back and some teachers stationed at the doors in case things got out of hand. On the table, each of the three on the panel got their own water bottle.

"Introducing the panel: I am Joseph Goode, Mr. Potter's agent. To my right is Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor chaser recently scouted by the Chudley Cannons. On the opposite end of the table is Vladimir Ivanova, Mr. Krum's agent. Next to him is Viktor Krum, Bulgarian seeker for the Vratsa Vultures. And in the middle is Harry Potter, currently having not signed a contract with any club, but has featured for England's U-17 side. The three on the panel have agreed that your questions can pertain to any topic that you deem necessary; if they can't say anything, they won't. Extremely personal questions will result in no answer at all. You may begin with the questions."

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Krum, how will the transfer scandal affect your moves to Puddlemere United?"

Harry nodded to Viktor, who said, "Because of the investigation, neither Harry or I will be moving to Puddlemere this summer."

"Mr. Krum. Will you stay with the Vrasta Vultures for another season."

"No, I won't. I am looking to be transferred."

"Ms. Johnson, how do you feel about being signed by the Chudley Cannons at such a young age?"

Angelina smiled widely. "It's amazing. I never thought i'd ever be good enough to go pro. It's a dream."

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Krum, is it true that you are rivals?"

"Viktor and I are actually very close friends." Harry affirmed.

"Mr. Potter, what are your thoughts on Rita Skeeter's most recent article in _The Daily Prophet_?"

"The article is the single most unreliable rag I'd ever read. The photos are real, but most of the content of the article are either taken out of context or is just not true at all."

"Mr. Potter, then what is your relationship with all of those girls?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. "Angelina and I dated for a short while, but we broke up and are now close friends. Hermione Granger is a friend of mine, that picture was taken after we repaired our previously broken friendship. Daphne Greengrass and I are currently dating, and Fleur Delacour and I are very close friends. I am immune to Veela allure. Also, I plan on taking legal action against Rita Skeeter for publishing such a privacy-invading and stupid article."

There was a murmur of surprise throughout the reporters. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Krum, are you planning on moving to the same team?"

Viktor spoke. "As Harry stated, we are close friends. If there is a team with enough money to sign both of us, we will definitely take the chance." There it was; the invitation for teams to spend all the money they had on the two most promising young Quidditch players in Europe.

"Mr. Potter, when you last did a conference, you asserted that you would not enter in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. What made you change your mind, and how were you able to enter at your age?"

"I never changed my mind; someone put my name in to put me in danger. Rest assured, whoever did so will be caught and I will press charges. However, because of this event, I was able to successfully emancipate myself as a full adult over the winter hols. I guess it was a blessing in disguise."

Then a pretty blonde-girl's voice rose above the crowd. She had a very annoying-looking face, and her notebook said, 'Teen Witches Weekly'. "How can you be sure that the French Veela isn't using her allure secretly to seduce you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "As I said, I am immune to her Veela allure for an unknown reason. And if you are trying to imply something, no, she has not tried to seduce me. First and foremost, she is a person who happens to have Veela bloodlines. I find it unsurprising that popular media outlets immediately associate her friendship with me as being a product of her allure; our friendship is based on how well we get along. It has nothing to do with being Veela. If anything, she's affected by _my_ allure." He attempted to joke, only to be reminded of how true that was.

The crowd laughed, and Harry made eye contact with Fleur, who was sitting next to Hermione in the audience. She had gotten over her crying fit, but had refused to share why she'd suffered such sadness over Skeeter's article. When he said that, she blushed a fiery red and she looked as guilty as Harry felt, and yet Harry knew she'd be proud at the way he made a public statement about Veela's.

"Mr. Krum, what is your relationship with Hermione Granger, and how do you feel about Harry's close friendship with him?"

Viktor chuckled deeply. "If you think that I'm jealous of their friendship, you'd be wrong. Hermione and I are very close friends as well."

"For all of you: this Tri-Wizard Tournament, you have all been working together. What made you decide to enter in this way, and what is your response to those that feel it is ruining the entertainment of the tournament?"

The three glanced at each other before Angelina said, "When we found out that Harry would be forced into the tournament against his will, we decided that his safety and the safety of each other is far more important than winning the tournament. We made a pact that no matter what, we would get through the competition without the smallest amount of injury and/or death as possible. Sort of to boycott the fact that Harry was forced into it."

Harry and Viktor nodded in agreement. Another question came, "Why wasn't Fleur Delacour included on the panel?"

"Fleur spoke to me and personally told me that she would rather not be included on the panel for two reasons. a) this conference was held firstly to address the recent developments in Quidditch and b) she didn't want to have to deal with your somewhat vile, stupid questions." Harry admitted as the reporters seemed taken aback. "I mean, honestly. The only reason you want her up here is to accuse her of using her allure on me and seducing me or whatever. I, for one, am glad she declined to come up here."

There was an awkward silence before a pretty young girl (even younger than Harry) from Teen Witches Weekly called, "Mr. Potter, are you still a virgin?"

Joseph spoke into the mic. "That is an extremely personal question. Harry will not -"

"Joseph, it's fine." Harry said quietly. He leaned forward to look at the girl. "Excuse me, miss, but how is that relevant to anything?"

The girl seemed surprised that he addressed her directly and flipped her hair, showing off her cleavage in the process. "My readers are very interested in knowing, Mr. Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's a bit funny, as I'm sure that more of half your readers are pre-teen girls, but in response to your question . . ."

The reporters leaned in in anticipation. Harry visibly hesitated before saying quietly, "That's classified information."

Some of the crowd laughed and some groaned in disappointment at being trolled. Harry chuckled as the next question came. "If you're not going to answer that, then what's the farthest you've ever gone with a girl?"

Harry made a visible attempt to think back and sighed, shrugging his shoulders theatrically; frankly, the girl was starting to piss him off. "I don't quite remember. Perhaps you should ask your mum."

Angelina sprayed the water from her mouth and banged her head against the table as Viktor threw his head back and laughed for a long time before offering Harry a hand to high-five, which he accepted.

It took a good few minutes for the students in the back to stop laughing at the joke, and finally the meeting resumed. The same girl from Teen Witches Weekly spoke up. "Really, Mr. Potter. Please answer seriously. What's the farthest you've gone with a girl?"

"As I said before, that's classified information." Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows, implying everything the girl needed to know. She grinned.

"How long ago was that, Mr. Potter?" The girl asked excitedly. Harry shrugged.

"I'm honestly not sure. It must have been .. . How old are you?" He asked. It took several seconds for that joke to sink in before the Great Hall exploded in laughter as the students in the back hooted. The Weasley twins looked up at Harry in appreciation before getting on their knees and praying to him.

"I'd say that would adjourn this conference. Please leave via the Floo Network to the sides of the Great Hall. We thank you for your time." Joseph said into the mic amid the chaos. The reporters filed out as Angelina rested her head in her hands and her shoulders shook from laughing. Harry glanced at Viktor to see he was sprawled out on the table ahead of him, whole body shaking from his laughter. As they all stood and walked down the steps, McGonagall confronted him.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your raunchy sense of humor, Mr. Potter." She said, but the amusement on her face betrayed her true intentions. Harry chuckled and kept walking, acknowledging all the praise from his fellow students. Fleur and Hermione stood when they approached. The latter crossed her arms at Harry.

"Really, Harry? This was a public conference and you pull out a few mum jokes." Hermione said, exasperated. Viktor was still recovering from his laughter and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Loosen up, Hermione! That was the funniest stuff I've heard in a while." He said as Hermione blushed a beet red from the Bulgarian's strong arm wrapped around her. Harry smirked before Fleur suddenly hugged him. He hugged back before raising an eyebrow.

"Harry, thank you for defending me and my kind up there." She said quietly. Harry smiled.

"Don't mention it. It's just racism in a new form. I'd be against it anyways." He assured her. She smiled at him once again, and they all turned to leave when Harry excused himself.

Fleur watched over her shoulder as Harry went and began talking with Greengrass, and she sighed in sadness. She, of course, had feelings for Harry, especially now since they'd connected on a sexual level. But the fact that he was betrothed to the Slytherin girl made her heart sink.

"Fleur? Fleur, come on, we have to leave the Great Hall. They're setting up the tables for lunch." Hermione said as Viktor went to his dorm to change. She glanced back at where Fleur was looking.

"Er – Fleur?" She repeated uncertainly. Fleur whipped her head back and continued to walk.

"It's nothing, Hermione. I am fine." She said immediately, though on the inside she wasn't sure what was happening.

-oOo-

Later that night, Harry leaned casually on the wall next to the Slytherin common room, the need for secrecy no longer present. The portrait opened, and out stepped a Slytherin. But it wasn't Daphne.

Draco Malfoy turned and jumped in surprise at Harry Potter, and Harry Potter jumped in surprise at Draco Malfoy.

"Damn you, Potter! You nearly gave me a heart attack." Draco growled, clutching his chest and stepping away.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Likewise, Malfoy. What are you doing out here?"

He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "Pansy."

"Ah." Harry said. "I'm out here for Daphne."

Draco nodded in understanding before he froze. "Wait – do you think they coordinated this?"

Harry knit his eyebrows together and peaked into the common room. "Erm – maybe. But why would they? They aren't friends, are they?"

"Not really, but they don't hate each other either. They just kind of don't talk." Draco replied, looking Harry up and down. The blonde boy noted his appearance. Harry had slim jeans and quarter-button down long sleeve t-shirt that fit his upper body well. Draco had to admit that the Gryffindor looked somewhat attractive.

"Er – Malfoy?" Harry asked uncertainly. The blonde boy whipped his head up and his cheeks tinged a barely noticeable pink as Harry looked down on himself. "What's wrong? Is there something on my clothes?"

"No, no. It's just – you look good, Potter." Draco blurted. His cheeks pinked even more and he mentally berated himself.

Harry was, above all, confused. "Well – um – thanks. You too."

Draco nodded gruffly as two girls walked out of the common room. One of which had a rather pleasant face, despite having a slightly upturned nose, giving her a somewhat piggish or dog-ish appearance. The other was Daphne, who Harry admitted had beautifully constructed features.

"Hullo, Harry." Daphne said cheerfully, linking her arm through his. "I hope you don't mind if we bring Pansy and Malfoy along."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, and then at the other couple. Pansy had latched herself onto Malfoy, and while Malfoy didn't look like he hated the experience, he looked somewhat uncomfortable.

"No, it's fine. But what are we doing?" Harry asked. Daphne smirked.

"Just going for a walk, like last time." Daphne said innocently before walking quickly, tugging Harry along. Draco and Pansy followed behind them at a slower pace. Without turning her head, Daphne whispered to Harry as they walked down the hallway.

"Malfoy and Parkinson need help. Draco refused to go on a date with Parkinson unless another couple was there too because he didn't want it to be awkward. The plan is that we're going to go on a walk in Hogsmeade and lose them as soon as possible and force them to be alone together."

Harry grinned and said back in a similar sneaky fashion, "Excellent plan."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Duh. I'm the brains. You're the braun."

Harry rolled his eyes as they rushed their way to Hogsmeade through the secret passageway.

-oOo-

Harry and Daphne returned to the castle, breathless, with their faces flushed from the exercise they'd gotten. As soon as they'd entered Hogsmeade, Daphne and Harry had made the excuse that they wanted to stop and shop somewhere, and the minute the other couple looked away they'd sped off to the Hog's Head, keeping an eye out for Pansy and Draco. For several hours, they just talked and laughed and joked, Harry for once forgetting about all his responsibilities and worries and just enjoyed his time.

When the clock struck ten o'clock, Harry and Daphne had left the Hog's Head and snuck by the sweets shop, where Draco and Pansy were talking while having an ice-cream. From there, they'd rushed back to the castle through the secret entrance once again.

Harry leaned against the brick of the castle for a moment, laughing and breathing heavily at the same time. He'd enjoyed himself immensely; as much as their date in Diagon Alley over the halls. Daphne too recovered from the escapade before she stood in front of him and grabbed his hands.

"So, Harry. You had fun?" Daphne asked shyly. Harry nodded quickly.

"Yes, loads. But next week, I'm organizing the date, and I'll one-up this one." Harry promised, and Daphne laughed.

"I don't know how you can one-up forcing Draco and Pansy to spend some quality time together." She said and Harry chuckled.

"Agreed." Harry sighed and looked into her eyes. "Thank you for giving me a good time, Daphne."

Daphne beamed up at him. "And thank you for being a good sport about it. Do I get a reward for organizing this date?"

Harry blinked and once again that guilty look crossed his face, but Daphne chose to ignore it again. Harry recovered and smiled.

"I guess we could try something mutually beneficial." He said, moving his face closer to hers. She extended up on her toes.

"I like that idea, Harry." Daphne murmured. Then, their lips connected and Daphne's mind exploded in happiness. Finally, she had kissed Harry; through all of the drama and sadness.

Meanwhile, in Harry's mind, he wasn't focusing on the kiss at all. All he could think about was building a mental wall around that dark influence in his mind, knowing that if he lost control there, he'd never forgive himself.

Thankfully, nothing happened. Daphne separated from their kiss and sighed, hugging Harry to her. Harry smiled and hugged her back, but his heart felt heavy with guilt on the inside. Suddenly, he felt an urge to do tell his fiancé everything. Including everything about Fleur.

"Daphne, I need to confess something." Harry said nervously. "You might not like me after I say it." Daphne backed up and smiled up at him.

"Anything, Harry." She said happily. She gazed into his eyes, and Harry suddenly felt very weak and a lump formed in his throat. He couldn't tell her now. She was so happy – so innocent. He couldn't ruin this night for her as he'd ruined their previous date.

"I – I think Draco has a crush on me." Harry blurted, his mind going to the first thing he could think of. Immediately, the guilt dropped into his stomach again and he cursed himself for being a coward.

Daphne laughed. "You think he's a poof? He might be. Stop joking around."

Harry laughed nervously and hugged her again. "Goodnight, Daphne."

She hugged him back. "Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for making my night and being honest with me."

Harry smile faltered and he turned to go, not uttering another word. Daphne turned and practically skipped down the hallway, happy that their relationship was finally chugging along.


	13. Part Three: Chapter Three

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

****A/N: ****There has been quite a change of plans across a lot of my stuff at the moment. FIRST: _Privileged Victim _has been taken down and will be converted to a Harry Potter story. More information will be given in the next chapter. SECOND: This story is nearing its end: there are three chapters (including this one) left. I will not be making a Part 4. This story will finally end. _Finally._I KNOW this chapter is short, but that's the way my outline panned out. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part III  
>Chapter Three: Quidditch and Exorcisms<p>

"So there's one of Riddle's horcruxes in my mind?"

Snape nodded gravely in response to Harry's question. Harry crossed his arms.

"Well? What's the plan? How do we get it out?" Harry asked. Snape folded his hands together and leaned forward on his desk.

"There's the problem. Yes, we can get it out. It will take a lot of manpower, but we can banish it." Snape explained.

Harry raised his arms in question. "Then let's get to it! I don't see the problem."

"The problem is that you are not prepared." Snape said. "To remove and destroy the horcrux in your head, we must either kill you -"

"That sounds rather pleasant."

"- or send in a team of at least five experienced Legilemens into your mind scape to destroy it."

Harry blinked. "Ah. Having five people in your mind can't be very healthy."

"Not in the slightest." Snape agreed. "Fortunately, you are naturally skilled in the art of Occlumency. I have already spoken to Albus; we will attempt to rid you of the horcrux in about a week. If we work hard today, you will be ready for it."

"Alright. What do I have to do?" Harry asked. His professor drew his wand.

"It's a similar technique to before. You must locate the horcrux, take all your memories and feelings, and move them away. It is hard to put the technique into words, but you will catch on. Meanwhile, I will inspect the horcrux further. Are you ready?"

Harry shifted into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. He nodded.

"_Legil__e__mens._"

-oOo-

The Quidditch Tournament turned out to be a blast.

Because he had practiced with professionals and made his professional debut, when he played amongst his peers and against the youth players from the other teams, it all seemed so easy. Their movements were slower, their decisions easily predicted and they all seemed to shy away from him, knowing that he possessed a lot of skill.

Every game was played on the same day, but an hour time limit was put in place to move things along. The Hogwarts first team played through Beauxbatons and the Ballycastle Bats like they were toddlers. On the other end of the tournament, the Falmouth Falcons were having a similar run of form, showing off their youth team. It was a well known fact that while the Falcons were not doing the best in the league, they had the best youth academy in the world; but because it had been established so recently, their best players were only sixteen or seventeen, nowhere near their prime. But rumor had it that a big investor was interested in buying out the club.

And they weren't just rumors. After Hogwarts were declared champions of the tournament (beating the Falcons 683-230), Harry had been announced top scorer and Player of the Tournament, with over 600 points overall throughout the three games, and then they had all met up in the Great Hall. Fleur, Viktor, Harry, and Angelina bantered about the other's quality of team as usual when their agents approached them.

"Viktor, Harry." Ivanova greeted in his strange accent. "As you predicted, many scouts were sent along with the teams participating. We have been speaking with them and have found some very tempting offers we think you'd like to consider."

"Let me guess." Harry said, sitting down and motioning for his friends and agent to do so as well. "They all want Viktor and I, but they can't afford our wages."

"Right you are." Joseph cut in. "You two have every right to ask the amount of money that you've set. But all the teams either have a full squad or are too poor financially to pay for you. Except for one."

"Falmouth?" Viktor asked. Ivanova nodded.

"The rumors turned out to be true. The Falcons have just been taken over by the head of a very wealthy and ancient family." He explained.

"Does Greengrass ring a bell?" Harry asked. Joseph nodded as though he'd just been reminded of something he'd forgotten.

"That's right. I think. Anyways, that family has put in millions upon millions of galleons into the Falcons to try and make them a European powerhouse. Their scout is here and would like to speak with you. If you're interested, we can meet him now."

Viktor glanced and Harry, who nodded. They then left their friends to eat dinner and followed their agents out of the Great Hall. McGonagall was in the hall, chatting animatedly with a very short but stocky middle aged man. When they approached, the man beamed and held out his hand.

"Hullo, boys! Jim Holmes, head scout and coach for the Falmouth Falcons. It's an honor to meet you both; you two flew excellently out there. World-class stuff."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said respectfully, shaking his hand. "So, you're here for our signatures, then?"

The man chuckled. "I've just been talking to your head of house, and she said that you have experience with professional Quidditch contracts. Let's step aside. Ma'am, if you could find us a place to talk, that would be lovely."

McGonagall nodded quickly, turning on heel and walking down the hall. She settled on a familiar classroom that was not in use, and they stepped inside, Harry's face growing warm at the memories this place held. Harry and Viktor sat down across from Holmes with their agents beside them. McGonagall watched dutifully from behind.

"These," Holmes said, taking out two pieces of paper, "are your potential contracts. You are both being offered 100,000 galleons a month to train and play with our team."

Viktor whistled appreciatively. Holmes grinned at him.

"While it is true that we are a mid-table team, with our new cash injection, we are looking to buy out many of the best players in the world and get their signatures as well. The Falmouth Falcons are going places in the future, and we'd be honored to have you in our ranks while we go through this change."

Harry took the contract and brought it closer. It was a rather lame one, with simple words and did not have as many questions as his national team's contract. Harry looked at Joseph with a question in his eyes.

"He's met all of your demands." Joseph said. "Now it's up to you to accept."

Harry looked at Viktor, who was having a similar discussion with his agent. Holmes smiled at him.

"I know this is a big decision to ask of you now. You may have time to think; I was just very excited to meet and talk to two of the best players in the world. Not to mention that Harry will be the youngest player in professional Quidditch if he signs this contract."

Viktor turned to Harry. "I have no qualms with this move. Harry?"

"Me neither." Harry's face split into a grin. "Let's do it."

And with that, they signed their names at the bottoms of their respective contracts with a flourish.

-oOo-

The next morning, Harry groaned and fell back on the grass at the same time as Fleur, Angelina, and Viktor. Hermione looked on from her spot under a tree in amusement.

"It's pretty fun to watch you guys wear yourselves down and pass out." She said cheerfully. Harry chuckled from his spot on the floor.

"Sorry if I'm pushing you guys too hard." Harry said, sitting up. "It's just that we know the Third Task will be the most dangerous, and there were no clues for this one. I want to be prepared for anything."

Viktor cracked his neck. They'd focused exclusively on the stunning curse this practice, and so all of them sported bruises all over their bodies as well as persistent headaches. "We know, Harry. We just want to survive, like you."

Harry stood up, his limbs protesting. "Great. You guys can hang out here if you'd like. I'm going inside for breakfast."

As he turned, he heard footsteps and Angelina fell in line with him.

"Hiya, Ann." Harry said. Angelina smiled weakly at him.

"Hey. I just wanted to really thank you." She said quietly. Harry stopped and turned. It was not like Angelina to be quiet and solemn like this. She continued.

"You've really made me a better witch with all of these sessions." She said, and then looked down. "And I'm not mad at you anymore for doing that thing with Fleur. I know neither of you weren't in control."

Harry smiled at her, but inside felt guilty once again. Fleur and Harry had spoken to no one about their most recent bout of sexual activity, and Harry almost regretted not telling Angelina. But at the same time he knew that would be the last straw and would cost them their friendship.

"It's fine; no need to thank me or apologize. I'm sure we'll do fine in the Third Task." Harry assured her. Suddenly, Angelina burst into tears and wrapped him in a firm hug. Harry stood still for a moment before hugging her back.

"Harry, I know I'm the worst out of all the champions." Angelina sobbed. "I almost got killed in the past two, plus in our tryouts. I'm sorry about being the weak link."

"You are not the weak link." Harry said fiercely. "You are brave, smart, powerful and amazing in every way. You are the perfect example of what many girls younger than you want to be. You will survive the Third Task and we will all be champions."

Angelina sniffed against his chest and looked up at him, longing to press her lips against his. But, of course, she knew that would be the worst idea imaginable. Instead, she settled for another long hug.

"Thank you, Harry. You're a good friend." Angelina said softly. Harry smiled and patted her back.

"Don't mention it, Ann. And I can't believe you just friend-zoned me!" He said in mock sorrow. Angelina sniffed but rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Oh well. Trust me, I wouldn't friend-zone you unless I had to." She said, blushing. Harry smiled shyly and they walked in companionable silence to the castle.

-oOo-

"Please sit down, Harry." Dumbledore said respectfully to his student. Harry did so, looking around the room. Other than Dumbledore, Snape sat in a chair next to him, and a tall, thick dark-skinned man stood in the corner.

"So, we're getting that pesky soul-piece out of my head now?" Harry asked casually. Dumbledore nodded.

"Where are the others? I was told there would need to be at least five Legilemens to banish it." Harry asked mildly.

"Two more are on their way. This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, a close friend. He is high up in the Auror ranks."

"Who are the two others?" Harry asked. His question was answered when the doors opened behind them.

The first person to walk in was a young woman on the shorter side, with bright pink hair and dark eyes. She was pretty and obviously fit. Then walked in a man whose identity surprised Harry.

"Remus?" Harry asked, taking a long look at the man. The werewolf looked the same as he did in his third year; bedraggled, as though he didn't have a home. As usual, he had dark circles under his eyes.

"Hello, Harry." He said quietly. Harry crossed his arms.

"Before I let him waltz around in my mind, I do believe I have a bone to pick with you." Harry said quietly. Remus suddenly seemed to age ten more years.

"Harry, I'm sorry that I knew Sirius was innocent the entire time and never told you. I tried to make the Ministry see that, but there was never any doubt that he'd never take my word for granted -"

"I'm not talking about that." Harry interrupted him. He stood. "I know that even Dumbledore tried to convince the Wizengamot, but they were too far under either the Minister's or You-Know-Who's thumb. I'm not pissed about that. I'm just wondering where you've been for the past year."

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Harry. I've been mourning Sirius's death and have been running errands for Dumbledore."

"Don't try and fool me, Remus." Harry said, sounding exasperated. "I know about your little Order of the Phoenix. Oh, don't look so surprised. No one told me, but your Order was public knowledge back in the day and it only makes sense that you'd continue and do things like round up his followers and send them to Azkaban. I know that you've been having to run errands for them, like convincing the werewolves to join our side. I respect that. I just wonder where _I_ factored into your equation."

Remus stayed silent in guilt while Harry pressed on. "I didn't factor in at all, did I? Where were you when I needed you?"

"As I said, I was mourning Sirius' death on my own." He said wearily. Harry glared at him.

"And you don't think that I was grieving too?" Harry growled. "I don't care that have self-pity about being a werewolf. But just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean you couldn't send me a letter."

Remus had no response to that and so stayed quiet. Harry took a deep breath and turned back to Dumbledore. "Right, then. I'm ready for old Voldy to get out of my brain. Do the others need to be briefed yet?"

"Remus, Nymphadora. Please sit down." Dumbledore invited. "Lemon drops?"

"Don't call me that, and no thank you." The young woman said, tossing her hair and turning it green in the process. She grinned at Harry. "Hello, my name is Tonks and today I'll be rummaging through your mind."

"Not exactly." Snape cut in. "Today, us five will enter Harry's mind scape and attempt to destroy the dark force currently nested within it."

Remus knit his eyebrows. "Won't that be dangerous and incredibly painful?"

"For me, yes." Harry said. "But me being in pain isn't that big of a deal, is it, Remus? I can handle it."

The werewolf shut his mouth and looked at his shoes as Dumbledore gave him an imploring look. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Snape and I have trained for a bit and he deems me ready for this process. I've got the method down. I'm ready when you're ready."

Dumbledore drew his wand, as did the others. "Prepare yourself, Harry. This will be painful."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Affirmative."

The others drew their wands. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three. _Legilemens._"


	14. Part Three: Chapter Four

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

****A/N: ******This is the second to last chapter. Nothing else to say. I'm just happy we're almost done. ****WAIT! Go to my profile and vote on the poll! You'll see. But do it! Just . . . do it! Don't let you dreams be dreams. Just . . . . DO IT! :)**

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.  
>WARNING: Character death (I'm so so so sorry I cried so much writing it ugh)<p>

Part III  
>Chapter Four: The Third Task<p>

"Hey, Potter."

Harry turned, dressed from head to toe in hard leather magic armor. He was met with Draco, standing there awkwardly. The other champions were sitting together behind Harry, not conversing in anticipation for the Third Task, which, in their opinion, had come far too quickly. It'd been a few months since the horcrux in his head had been banished, and since then Harry had suffered no more attacks. As the announcer began to dictate the event loudly outside of the tent, Harry responded.

"Yes, Draco?" Harry asked, showing him courtesy with the use of his first name. Draco recognized this as a bit of a jab at his use of Harry's last name but ignored it.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For you and Daphne helping with Pansy and my date." Draco said quickly. Harry crossed his arms.

"Is that all?" He asked, coaxing for more. He had his suspicions about the blonde-haired boy and said boy glared at him.

"Fine. Thanks for – you know – talking to me and stuff." He said gruffly. Harry chuckled, trying to take control of the conversation despite his heart leaping through his chest with nervousness.

"It's no problem. We've both changed for the better." Harry responded simply. Draco nodded before turning on his heel.

"Hey – Draco." Harry said before he could leave. Draco stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"I think I know why you're really pissed about being betrothed to Daphne. She's not really _your type_, is she?" Harry continued, putting emphasis on 'your type'.

Draco blushed a deep shade of pink, getting his meaning. "Now if you're implying that I'm some kind of poof -"

"Not at all!" Harry said quickly, but with a smile. "And you don't have to confirm or deny it at all. Your face already has."

Draco growled, utterly embarrassed and left the tent, grumbling, "Bloody arsehole."

Harry chuckled in his moment of triumph before remembering the situation and turning to his friends. They were too focused on themselves to have listened in on Harry's conversation. They were all relatively in the same position; sitting, hands clasped together, looking down, Angelina shaking slightly from nervousness.

Harry sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders, calming her. "Hey. We'll be fine. Do you remember the plan?"

Her nervousness subsided slightly. "Yeah. If we see each other, we work together. If we're in trouble, shoot red sparks."

"Right." Harry rubbed her shoulders. "You'll be fine, Ann."

Across from them, Viktor gave him a look and nodded up. Harry stood and turned to see Daphne instead of Draco standing there. Her lips were pursed together, probably because she wasn't happy that Harry had been in close proximity with his ex. He smiled apologetically and opened his arms for a hug.

Daphne instantly forgot about her jealousy and rushed to him, throwing his arms around him and sounding as though she were on the verge of tears. Unbeknownst to either members of the couple, the two other girls in the room were watching them with a strange mixture of sadness and jealousy, one of them with a lot of guilt.

As Harry silently held Daphne in his arms, another figure stepped into the tent and walked in a straight line to Viktor. With an _'oof!'_ Hermione latched on to the Bulgarian seeker, who she had grown incredibly close to recently; almost as close as she was with Harry. Harry glanced at them out of the corner of his eye before focusing back on Daphne.

Daphne looked up at him tearfully. "Harry, please don't die."

Harry smiled, trying to remove the sorrow from the situation. "I won't. I heard your parents are here; I wouldn't want to embarrass myself in front of my future step-parents."

Daphne giggled, although her throat was thick and it sounded somewhat demonic, but Harry ignored that and hugged her tighter as the announcer called out the champions. Harry held Daphne for several more seconds before letting her go and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips and hugging her once more.

"I'm going to live. We all are." Harry promised into her hair. She sniffed.

"You better." She said sternly. With that, she left the tent to join her parents in the stands.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply before looking back. Fleur and Angelina had stood and were preparing (mentally and physically) for the maze that they'd been briefed on already. Hermione was still with Viktor; but Harry glanced back just in time to see Hermione disentangle herself from the seeker and pressing her lips against his.

Harry choked on his own throat at the sight and began to cough violently as Fleur and Angelina looked at him in concern before looking to see what had happened. Hermione continued to keep her mouth on Viktor's before she opened her eyes and saw two champions watching, with the other supporting himself with his legs and laughing.

She shoved Viktor back violently and grew red with embarrassment. The man let himself be shoved and he looked around with wide eyes. Harry wheezed out, "You absolute horn-dog, Hermione."

She huffed and walked up to him before embracing him in a friendly way. "Don't get yourself or anyone else killed, Harry."

Harry winced at the implications but nodded. "Gotcha."

And so she left, leaving a shocked Viktor as Karkaroff, Maxine, Dumbledore (who was Angelina's 'sponsor') and Moody walked in. They went directly to their champions and spoke quietly to them, issuing orders and suggestions. Moody leaned on his staff and looked at him for a good while with his magical eye before saying quietly, "I know you want to be with your friends, boy, but you have to do as I say. You need to head southwest once you enter the maze; you can easily do a point-me spell, I'm sure. The most important thing is that you _must_ touch the Goblet alone; it's a portkey to bring you back here, and then we'll retrieve the other champions. If more than one person touches it, you could get hurt.."

Harry knit his eyebrows. He knew for a fact that portkeys could carry any multitude of people at a time, and Moody as an ex-Auror must know that as well. He wondered why he could have been lying to him.

"As for me, I'll be overseeing the tournament in my office. If anything goes wrong, I'll notify the authorities immediately." Moody continued, slapping Harry on the back. "I know you've been trained well. All I can say is good luck."

Harry nodded but once again alarm bells sounded in his brain. There was absolutely no reason for Moody to stay back in his office. Instead, he simply said, "Thank you, Professor. For everything."

The man just nodded and led him out of the tent, trailed by the other champions and their advisors. Harry glanced back to see them all with the same anxious look on their face. He couldn't blame them. Whatever was out there would test his abilities and the abilities of his friends to the max.

He stepped out into the small clearing. Around them, there were stands upon stands of onlookers, and Harry quickly located Daphne and her family in the writhing and shouting mass. Daphne had tears in her eyes, and her mother had a firm hand on her shoulder. Harry made eye contact with her father and there was a very strange look in them. He understood it right away; they both knew that if Harry died, the contract would be terminated and Daphne would be free to choose whom she marries. But at the same time, the man knew that Daphne was infatuated with the boy and wouldn't bear to see him go.

Harry took a deep breath and looked away, to the maze. There were four entrances into a massive hedge, and Harry knew beyond that was a massive maze, littered with deadly creatures. After only about twenty feet in, Harry could tell that the mist was so thick that the champions would barely be able to see anything in front of them.

Harry looked above the stands to see the same large screens used in the Second Task and heard the familiar buzz of one of the camera-drone-insect-things. As Moody took his place next to Harry, Harry glanced down the row at the other champions. His heart was in his throat, and he felt like the most cowardly man in the world. He knew the others felt the same.

"As you all know," the announcer said, "whoever touches the Goblet first will be declared champion. The points will dictate who will come second, third, and fourth. Champions, you may enter on the count of three. One."

Harry drew his wand and breathed deeply.

"Two."

Harry looked down the row one more time and made eye contact with Angelina. She looked back for only a split second, but Harry could see utter terror in her eyes. He would have done some placating gesture, but the announcer continued.

"One."

Harry glared down the corridor. The wind blew eerily, and the would-be sunset was blocked by a filthy overcast. His adrenaline began to pump as the announcer finished.

"Begin!"

-oOo-

"Come on, Ann!"

Harry grabbed her hand and tugged her along through the now-cold mist.

An hour had passed. Harry hadn't encountered any dangerous creatures, but only a few minutes in, he'd encountered Angelina, being attacked by two dementors. He'd easily dispatched of the dark creatures, and since then they'd been trudging through the maze, Harry heading in a vague southwest direction. Angelina hadn't spoken much, as she was petrified with fear.

Only a few seconds ago had they seen the red sparks in the sky; hard to miss, as night had fallen behind the dark thunder clouds. Said sparks had flown into the air quite startlingly close to them; and as they arrived at the scene, they were shocked to see Viktor bent over a glassy-eyed Fleur. The Seeker looked up at him, his face smeared with dirt and blood.

"I heard her screaming and came as quickly as I could; someone was here, and was cursing her. I don't know if she's dead or not." He said, absolutely horrified. Naturally, Harry had the impression that his friend and hexed her himself, but that was wiped away as he saw the look on Viktor's face.

"I didn't see clearly, but the man who hexed her had a staff." Viktor said, and then hesitated, looking down at his leg. Harry followed his gaze to see Viktor's calf with a massive gash in its side. "It looked like the man you talked to before, Harry. I was able to fight him off but he got me with a good cutting curse."

As Angelina bent down and tried to assess Fleur's condition, Harry put some pieces together in his mind but it didn't make sense. Moody was trying to help him win the tournament and had come here personally to prevent the other champions from succeeding. Whatever he was doing or who he supported, he was definitely not on the side of the Light.

"Harry, she's not dead," Angelina said quietly, "but it looks like she's really, really unconscious, if you know what I -"

Her words were cut off when something appeared out of the mist a couple hundred yards away from them, snarling. Two massive hairy limbs cut through the fog and it swept away completely, revealing an acromantula the size of a city bus. At the same time, the hedge next to them split open, and a hundred yard down was a glowing goblet on a pedestal.

The three panicked. Harry and Angelina stood to confront the creature, who was beginning to make its way towards them, but Viktor groaned and stood before fixing them with a stern gaze.

"You two must go to the Goblet." He said firmly. "I will protect Fleur from this creature. If you do it quickly, I will be able to hold it off until this tournament ends and they send help."

Harry's immediate response was a refusal, but Viktor grabbed his shoulder, cutting him off. "Harry, you must do this. If we do not get Fleur help soon, she could die."

Harry growled before clasping his arm. "Good luck, Viktor. Keep her safe."

The Bulgarian nodded, clasping his arm back. "Likewise."

Grabbing Angelina's hand, Harry sprinted down the corridor. Angelina nervously tugged along, not happy with what they were doing at all. Soon, they were standing in front of the shining blue cup. They exchanged a glanced before looking back down the clear corridor. At the end, Viktor was kneeling over their friend, casting curse upon curse beyond their line of sight.

With a deep breath, Harry locked eyes with Angelina and grabbed the cup.

The familiar feeling of being port-keyed seized him, but before he could be sick he and Angelina slammed against the ground, groaning. Angelina was the first to recover. She pushed herself up and looked around.

"Harry. Get up. Is this part of the tournament?" She whispered fearfully. Harry did so. They were in what looked to be a cemetery with a large house in the distance, on a hill. The moon had peaked out of the clouds, casting long shadows from the tombstones, and one in particular. Before Harry could look around more, someone yelled an indiscernible spell and he was shoved into the air towards the large tombstone, sporting a grim reaper-like thing on top.

As the statue brought its hand that held a scythe around Harry's throat, securing him in place, a few raindrops began to fall. He looked around, gasping for breath as Angelina was thrown against a similarly large tombstone, her feet dangling several inches off the ground.

"Master, the boy came in with a girl." A nervous, rat-like voice quivered. Peter Pettigrew stepped into the light, the moon casting shadows on his rodent features. He appeared to be swaddling something in the shape of a newborn.

To Harry's horror, a rasping voice crept forth from the thing wrapped in cloth. "I don't care. Kill her after. Quickly, throw me in the cauldron."

Pettigrew quickly obliged, waving his wand, causing a large cauldron to appear in the center of the cemetery. With almost irresponsible haste, Pettigrew unceremoniously tossed in what Harry knew was Voldemort's weak form.

Pettigrew turned to Angelina, a sadistic smile on his face. He approached her as she struggled against the curse holding her to the tomb.

"My Lord tells me to kill you quickly." Pettigrew said. But then he smiled in further. "But it has been years since I've had some real fun."

As he sad this, his hairy and frankly disgusting hand softly touched her leg and began to move up. "It would be a pity to pass up such a delicious opportunity . . ."

As he moved his head forward to get a good look of his prize, Angelina brought one of her legs up and kicked him directly across the face. Rain began to poor down harder as Pettigrew snarled, holding his cheek. He whipped his head back around.

"You will pay for that, girl. _Avada Kedavra!_" Pettigrew screamed, jabbing his wand towards her. Angelina knew what was coming; she whipped her head towards hairy, tears coming forth from her eyes and her mouth opening to say – something. But it was too late.

It was quicker than Harry had envisioned. A flash of green light, and just like that, Angelina's expression left her face, changing to lifeless eyes. Her head lolled towards Harry, and he really began to struggle against the statue, rage building up within him as he watched one of his best friends' tears come down her dead face among the pounding rain.

Pettigrew chuckled. "A pity. I was hoping to have some real fun with her; perhaps I still can when my master is reformed." He turned to Harry and stalked towards him, watching as the boy bloodied his fingers, scratching at the stature and kicking madly.

Quite suddenly, the rat Animagus pointed his wand at the Boy-Who-Lived. "_Crucio!_"

Unimaginable pain coursed through Harry's body, as though every nerve ending within him erupted into flames. He threw his legs about and thrashed madly, just wishing the pain to go away, coupled with the mad grief from Angelina's lifeless eyes. His torturer ended the curse after what seemed like an eternity to Harry; in reality, it had been five whole minutes. A full minute longer than it had taken to drive Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity.

When the man finally released Harry from his misery, the boy gasped and fell against the cold, wet arms of the statue, but instead of feeling weak, a new energy forced more adrenaline into his blood. He began to kick again, despite the aches in his body.

Pettigrew hexed his feet quickly, sticking them to the statue before approaching Harry with a leer. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."

He drew a knife and pressed it against the skin of Harry's forearm. That's what unleashed him.

With a savage scream, Harry pushed himself down from the statue's arms, scraping his cheek and the whole side of his face as he blindly went through the pain. He dropped to the ground before drawing his wand and casting four curses in a matter of three seconds. A combination he knew Pettigrew would never be prepared for.

First, a stupefy. A simple distraction; it would cause the rat to throw up his shield. Second, the shield-penetrating spell. It would completely destroy his shield and leave him defenseless. Third, an _expelliarmus_, to prevent him from casting anything in the one second window in which eh would be able to shield himself again. And finally, _reducto_.

In the space of four total seconds, Pettigrew went from defending himself to exploding in a shower of blood, coating many tombstones in the surrounding area, not even getting the chance to utter a scream.

Harry immediately walked past the pile of organs on the ground and pointed his wand at the cauldron and sending a simple, overpowered blasting hex. The cauldron exploded into metal pieces, water streaming everywhere; unfortunately, no body of Voldemort was to be seen. However, a shadowy spirit-like shape rose from the cauldron, stared at Harry for a split second before fleeing the scene, vanishing in the rain.

Not losing a single second, Harry canceled the curses keeping Angelina against the wall and almost lost it as her rag-doll body fell in his arms. His breath hitched, but he knew he needed to leave quickly to stop the tournament and get Viktor and Fleur to safety; then he would mourn.

He put her over her shoulder, ignoring the pain plaguing him, and limped his way to the cup as tears began to form in his eyes. He grabbed the Goblet with his opposite hand and he was port-keyed once again.

Harry hit the ground, hard, on his knees. As the crowd cheered, Harry began to sob. Dumbledore rushed forward as the cheering suddenly stopped. It was followed by horrified screams and shocked silence as Harry laid Angelina on her back and began to sob.

Everything else was lost in Harry's ears as he gazed down at Angelina's face. The rain mixed with her tears, but now there was an almost content look on her face. Harry's tears fell with the rain. He wondered how she could look so content when she'd just left him and his life.

As medi-wizards rushed forward, a bony but firm hand gripped his shoulder and gently tried to pull him away from the body of one of his best friends. Harry tried to resist, but he was in such a vulnerable state that Dumbledore was able to hoist him to his feet. Instead of telling him what happened, Harry pushed his recent memories towards his Headmaster's mind.

As the old man's eyes widened, Moody came up behind him. Before he could utter a word, Harry drew his wand and sent a stunner directly at him. The man crumpled as the Minister came forward, extremely confused. Dumbledore went to explain things to him immediately.

As he did, Harry turned and dropped to his knees once more next to Angelina, who was surrounded by a team of three wizards and witches, helplessly trying to revive her as chaos continued to erupt in the stands. Harry looked up to see a team of Aurors coming forth from the hedge, escorting Fleur and Viktor between them; Fleur was conscious now, but she looked extremely weak and she was shaking. Viktor was limping, but when they saw Harry they rushed away and finally noticed the body on the ground. Fleur promptly burst into tears and Viktor fell to his knees and lowered his head to the ground.

Harry burst into fresh tears, not even a little bit ashamed of displaying his weakness to anyone there or in the world. He was too caught up in grief to even recognize that a soothing hand touched his shoulder, and Daphne knelt next to him. As Harry curled into a ball and sobbed more, Daphne laid her arms around him and whispered things in his ear. Harry grabbed at Angelina hand and squeezed it, only to find it cold and wet as the grass around them.

Vaguely, he heard Fudge ordering that Moody be arrested and put on trial immediately, probably at Dumbledore's urging. Across Angelina's still form, Viktor was being comforted by Hermione, who was crying herself. He then heard Dumbledore using an amplifying charm to order everyone to evacuate the premises and go to the Great Hall. Daphne easily shrugged off the orders as her family came forth and stood behind their daughter and her betrothed somewhat awkwardly. They'd heard stories of Harry's friend Angelina but only saw now just how close Harry had been to her.

Finally, after many more minutes of tears and sobbing, Harry was brought to his feet and wrapped in a large blanket, a drying charm cast upon him. He only realized that he was shivering in the cold when someone cast a warming charm on him as well. The spell did nothing to help the darkness he felt in his heart.

With all the students gone, the staff levitated Angelina's body into the air and escorted it towards the school. Daphne kept her arms around Harry, who hadn't spoken and felt numb at the shock of another death. He only spoke once more when Daphne suddenly began to cry even more and hugged Harry very hard. For a moment, warmth spread through him and he looked at her with depressed eyes.

"Are those happy tears that I've come back or sad tears that Ann's dead?" He asked weakly. Saying that Angelina was dead came as another shock, and more tears formed in his eyes.

"I'm not telling you." She murmured stubbornly, half-smiling and half sobbing as she walked back to the castle with him.

-oOo-

"Ms. Greengrass, your parents await you in the Great Hall." Dumbledore said, striding into the Hospital, his usual air of quiet amusement completely gone, replaced with a grave and sad old man. "You may come back after I have spoken to the student body."

Reluctantly, Daphne stood, squeezing Harry's hand once more before leaving him in the room with Viktor and Fleur on other beds, laying down as wizards and witches nursed their wounds.

"What's their status, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked. The Hogwarts nurse answered quickly.

"Mr. Krum is being treated for acromantula venom in his blood as well as a crippled right calf. Ms. Delacour was hit with a Cruciatus that drove her unconscious; she suffering from aches and pains from the aftereffects."

"There are no mental wounds?"

Poppy hesitated before speaking quietly. Harry listened in, only pretending to be asleep as some nurses ran more diagnostic tests over his body.

"Mr. Potter was held under the Cruciatus for an unheard of time; five minutes."

Dumbledore seemed to pale as Poppy shivered and spoke. "That's several more minutes than it would take to drive the average wizard to insanity. That, coupled with the girl's death . . ."

"Has he spoken since then?" Dumbledore asked, concern obvious.

"No. He has not awoken. What is the word on the Moody character?"

"The real Alastor was being held prisoner in the imposter's office. Said imposter was Barty Crouch Junior, under polyjuice. He was tried immediately in the Ministry and the events in the graveyard were uncovered. Peter Pettigrew, the known traitor who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort, attempted to bring Riddle back from his weakened state. Harry was port-keyed to the graveyard and killed the man, as well as Riddle's body."

"Merlin." Poppy whispered, then shook her head. "I do hope he speaks soon. I'm horrified to say I wouldn't be surprised if he was driven mad in the cemetery."

"I wasn't." Harry said quietly from his bedside. Dumbledore, Poppy and his nurses jumped, startled at his voice, but the headmaster quickly rushed over before laying a hand on Harry's head.

"Harry, m'boy." He said fondly. "You are not insane?"

Harry snorted despite the situation. "No more than I was before, thanks for asking."

Dumbledore smiled slightly before his face dropped once again. He sat heavily on the chair next to his bed. "Mr. Potter, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that the imposter was able to slip by my notice undetected."

"I understand, Professor." Harry murmured. "It is not your fault. I know that I threatened you in the beginning of the year. I only now see that it was in a fit of madness caused by that horcrux in my head. Speaking of which, I wonder why the horcrux was able to affect my mood while I have the ability to throw off the Imperius and Fleur's allure."

Dumbledore sighed, removing his hand from his head. "I am not entirely sure, but I believe it is because the horcrux was not just a parasite or coming from an external source, as a Veela's allure does or the Imperius. In essence, that piece of Riddle's soul _was you_."

Harry chuckled. "That makes little to no sense, but I hope we do figure it out eventually."

Dumbledore chuckled back. "Indeed. But I must ask how you are coping."

He didn't have to specify. Harry closed his eyes and sorrow filled his face and he shrugged helplessly and tears threatened to form. "My best friend is dead. I'm coping as well as anyone else would."

Dumbledore needed not say more. He held a respectful silence for a few minutes before he finally spoke again. "Harry. You said that you were giving me a chance to redeem myself to you."

Harry just nodded, his arm still over his eyes. Dumbledore sighed. "I have found a way to terminate the marriage contract between you and Ms. Greengrass."

Harry removed his arm and stared up in shock, not quite understanding him. "What?"

"When you were emancipated, you became head of House Potter and House Black. Because you are the head of two Ancient and Noble Houses, you are considered a senior to almost every other pure-blooded family in Britain; in the world, really. It is well within your right to cancel the contract and leave the bond you have with House Greengrass."

Harry was utterly shocked and thus could not speak. Dumbledore smiled grimly.

"Yes, I understand that this will be a hard choice. I know that Ms. Greengrass has acquired quite the affinity for you, but it is now possible for you to redeem your human rights and fall in love and get married without her."

Harry continued to be silent. He was still processing the information when Dumbledore stood.

"I will meet you in my office tomorrow, just before the other school depart back to their homes. You can make the decision then. And if I'm not mistaken, Ms. Greengrass has ignored my suggestion to return to the Great Hall and is instead rushing back here. I shall now address the student body about the situation. Rest well, Harry."

"Thank you, Dumbledore." Harry croaked. The old man nodded and left, passing a defiant young girl on the way out. He smiled at her before continuing on his way. Daphne rushed to his side and grabbed his hand.

"Are you alright, Harry?" She asked quietly. Harry cracked a smile at her.

"I'm not doing so well at all, but sure." He said, and Daphne giggled but sadness returned quickly and she simply held his hand.

With that, the last of Harry's resolve broke. The guilt from before overwhelmed him once more, and he suddenly spilled everything to his betrothed. First he spoke of the horcrux and how it caused him to get insane mood swings, and then he spoke of he and Fleur's first session in the Lake. Daphne teared up slightly at that but was apparently extremely understanding when Harry stressed that he hand no control over his actions and promised to prove it to her with Veritaserum when he could. When he got to the most recent situation with Fleur, tears began to roll down her cheeks in sadness and jealousy.

"I'm so sorry, Daphne." Harry whispered, his own eyes welling up. "I would never hurt you deliberately. I wanted my first time to be special but the horcrux -"

She held up a hand, tears still falling before she spoke. "You don't have to apologize, Harry. I understand you weren't in control. I am angry that you didn't tell me sooner. That's the only thing I'm mad about."

"Daphne." To their surprise, Fleur had been listening in intently, and she herself was crying slightly as well. At her words, Daphne crossed her arms, more anger than jealousy building up.

"I am sorry." Fleur said sorrowfully. "I have no excuse. I was just – I was just so excited that a man was finally immune to my allure and I gave in to his ministrations. I am sorry."

Daphne said nothing for a while. Finally, she sniffed and wiped her tears away before saying, "Fine, Delacour. I accept your apology, but you are not forgiven. Not yet."

The French girl nodded dutifully. "That is all I ask." She said, before laying down once more. Daphne turned to Harry before kissing him on the cheek and crawling into his hospital bed with him. Harry shifted, surprised, but Daphne told him to be still.

"Harry," Daphne said quietly, "I know that we were forced into this contract against our wills. I know that this whole time, you've been looking for a way out of it. I admit, I have too. But I must confess something."

She rolled on top of him lightly so as to not hurt him and put her forehead against his. "I love you, Harry Potter. I have fallen in love with you against my own will and I know that you don't love me back yet but I hope you will eventually in the years we will spend together. I love you." She said fiercely, before kissing him just as she'd said it; almost violently.

Harry kissed her back, but quickly broke it off as he remembered what Dumbledore said. He could get out of it. He could end this contract and they would both have the freedom to love and marry who they wanted. The choice once more grew far more difficult. Daphne rolled off him and nestled in his shoulder, putting her hand on his chest and nuzzling in his side.

Harry closed his eyes and brought her close to him. She was in love with him. Now he had to make the choice.


	15. Part Three: Chapter Five

**-△⃒⃘- The Greengrass Contract -△⃒⃘-  
>by ncronan<strong>

****A/N ********(this will be long, but please read through it)********: ******This is it. Finally. Thank god. I am done with this pile of inadequate writing. I realize that I haven't properly thanked you for sticking with me through all of this confusion. I must say that your feedback has made my post-surgery days a lot brighter. Thank you. As most of you, I am only 14. As I always say, do not think that I am using that fact as an excuse, but please be considerate of that when you 'flame' me. There will be another author's note at the end for you to read, and that will be slightly longer. But enjoy this final chapter; I know it's short, but that's how this thing ends.**

Disclaimer: I don't own any significant portion of the Harry Potter franchise. Unfortunately.

Part III  
>Chapter Five: The Decision<p>

When Harry returned to the Great Hall the next morning with the remaining champions, they were not met with applause or cheering of any kind. As they entered, every head turned in their direction. When Harry looked down the Gryffindor table, he could see many of the girls there crying. He promptly sat down with Fleur and Viktor, not engaging in idle banter as Hermione took the seat next to Viktor. What was curious was that there was no food on the tables.

Dumbledore stood and walked out in front of the head table. He stopped behind his famous owl podium and finally spoke.

"Dear students, a terrible tragedy occurred during yesterday's Third Task. Last night as the other champions recovered, I merely told you half the truth. This is where I tell all of it.

"Our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was not Alastor Moody. He was a death-eater, under poly-juice potion. At the urging of Lord Voldemort, he impersonated him and has been pretending to be him for this entire year. He bewitched the Goblet prior to the Third Task, creating a portkey for the intended victim, Harry Potter, whose name he entered at the beginning of the year.

"Angelina Johnson and Harry Potter, upon touching the Goblet, were transported to a cemetery near the family home of Lord Voldemort's muggle father. Once there, a death-eater named Peter Pettigrew slew Ms. Johnson and inflicted the Cruciatus curse on Mr. Potter for five minutes before he was able to retaliate, killing the death-eater and bringing Ms. Johnson's body back to us.

"The reason Pettigrew was there was because Voldemort did not die on that night in 1981. Instead, he was reduced to a weakened form, and was able to possess Professor Quirrel in 1991 and awaken a basilisk in 1992. Even in his state, he is still highly dangerous and should be feared.

"In the graveyard last night, Pettigrew was attempting to cast an ancient and highly dark spell to bring Voldemort back to life. Fortunately, Mr. Potter was able to stop the ritual, but Voldemort's weakened form was able to escape.

"All of this has been officially verified as fact by the Ministry of Magic, and the death-eater who impersonated Alastor will serve a life-sentence in Azkaban.

"Last night, we lost a hard-working student, a talented Quidditch player and a wonderful young woman in Angelina Johnson last night. She will be dearly missed by family, friends, and professors alike.

"Concerning the Tri-Wizard Cup: Mr. Potter appealed to me this morning that in light of the death of his friend and the trickery in the Third Task, the winnings should be distributed among the champions and Ms. Johnson's family."

With that, glasses of pumpkin juice appeared in front of everyone, including one in Dumbledore's hand. He raised it. "I declare a toast to the short life Angelina Johnson and the memory she left behind."

Everyone raised their glasses and drank, all of them in deep, sorrowful thoughts. To Harry's embarrassment and surprise, Viktor stood and raised his glass once again.

"And to Harry Potter." He said deeply and loudly. "For doing all he could to save Angelina and weakening Lord Voldemort once again."

Once again, everyone raised their glass and drank, and when they were done, Viktor formed a fist with his hand and began to hit the table in a rhythmic beat. After a moment, his peers from Durmstrang followed suit, and although the rest of the students did not know what it meant, they joined in as well; until the only thing that could be heard was the thunderous sound of the tables being hit. It gradually stopped, and Dumbledore clapped his hands, food appearing on the tables.

Viktor sat back down and Harry asked what he'd instigated. The Bulgarian responded, "It is a sort of ritual at Durmstrang to pound the tables out of respect of someone or in the aftermath of a tragedy."

Harry nodded in understanding and went about eating his breakfast until Dumbledore made one last announcement. "Because the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are leaving tonight, please feel free to use this as a free day. Spend time with your friends. I would think it a crime to make you work on such a day." He said grandly before sitting again. The announcement was so well received just after distressing news that Harry was surprised no one began pounding the tables once more.

When Viktor announced that he was going to hold a friendly scrimmage and every Quidditch player flocked to him, Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom, but Fleur knew better. As Harry left the Great Hall, Fleur followed him stealthily. Unbeknownst to her, a certain Slytherin girl followed the both of them, trusting Harry but at the same time being suspicious of Fleur.

Harry, instead of heading to the restroom, went out on the grounds and promptly sat at the gnarled old tree in front of the lake that all students were familiar of. He simply drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them to himself, leaning back against the wood.

Fleur approached him cautiously and Daphne watched from a distance, but just close enough that she could hear their conversation.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Fleur asked. Harry looked up and nodded, a bit too quickly.

"Yeah, yeah." He said. "I'm fine."

Fleur rolled her eyes and sat against the bark next to him casually. "Don't try and fool me. Just because you have vanquished the Dark Lord once again doesn't mean you can try and slip by me."

Harry desperately wanted to laugh, but his heart was in his throat and instead he sighed. After a moment of silence, he spoke. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not fine."

Fleur smiled softly at him and put an arm around her friend. Daphne considered rushing in there and breaking up what looked like shady activity, but instead let them take a little time. She wanted to see how much she could trust Harry in the presence of the Veela.

"Tell me what is wrong, Harry." Fleur said soothingly, rubbing his shoulder. Harry shrugged.

"The usual things, you know. Voldemort and another person dying because of my inadequate ability." He said quietly.

Fleur promptly stood and crossed her arms, glaring angrily down at her friend. "Stop doing that, Harry."

Harry looked up helplessly and Fleur could practically feel the sadness he felt. "Doing what, Fleur?"

"Self-pity. It's unbecoming of you." She accused. If Riddle's horcrux had still been active within him, he would have jumped at the opportunity to pick a fight. Instead, he shrugged.

"It's not self-pity," Harry said, "it's the truth. I don't mean to make it sound like this is all about me. This is about the people who interact with and how they end up dead. I feel that it's rather selfish to keep people close to me if their life will end because of it."

Fleur was horrified by how tonelessly and practically said it. The way he presented the idea made it sound as though he were reciting it out of a textbook; it seemed believable. But Fleur instead glared at him harder.

"You and I both know it's not your fault, Harry." Fleur said. "You just need something to blame, and the easiest thing for someone stupidly righteous like you to blame is yourself."

"It's only practical." Harry insisted. "I should just stop letting people get close to me. It would save them."

"No, it wouldn't." Fleur said. "And is that anyway to live?"

"I'd live in any fashion if it meant the ones I love don't die." Harry retorted.

"What about Daphne, Harry?" Fleur asked suddenly.

"What about her?" Harry asked tiredly.

"I heard her last night. She loves you."

There was a pause. Daphne was very curious about this part and slightly worried. "I know."

"Do you love her back?"

It took a long time for Harry to respond, and in that time Daphne's heart rate grew steadily in embarrassment. Finally, Harry answered, "I think there's something broken in me, Fleur. I didn't want to at first, but for the past few months I've really been trying to fall in love with her and it's – it's not working."

Daphne's breath hitched, and she grew angry when Fleur returned to her seated position by Harry. Was the Veela going to make a move now that Harry had confessed his feelings?

Fleur simply touched him on the shoulder gently. "Harry. Nothing's wrong with you. Love takes time."

"It didn't for Daphne." Harry pointed out. He shifted uncomfortable at Fleur's friendly touch. "Can you explain that?"

"For some, they have been looking for love for a long time." Fleur said quietly. "For some, it takes only months to fall in love."

"And Daphne's one of those people?"

"Yes. And I know several others." Fleur looked into Harry's eyes.

Unexpectedly, they began to fill with tears, and soon Harry was silently sobbing once again. Fleur wrapped an arm around him.

"I'm so sorry Fleur." Harry said. "I feel like I led you on. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry for making me fall in love with you?" Fleur asked incredulously. She laughed, but her sadness was evident. "It's not your fault, Harry. It is my own. And it is not your fault that you and Daphne are betrothed."

Harry went quiet and Fleur picked up on his silence. "Harry?"

After a moment, he said, "Fleur, I think you were asleep when Dumbledore talked to me before Daphne came and said she loved me. He found a loophole. Tonight, I decide if I stay in the contract or terminate it."

Daphne's breath stopped in her throat. The world seemed to close in around her as she processed the information. She loved Harry, whether she liked it or not. And yet he could terminate it if he felt like it. Tonight.

Fleur also seemed to process this information, and there was an incredibly hopeful look on her face that made Daphne feel more sick. If the Veela manipulated Harry in any way, Daphne would enter the scene.

"Fleur, what do I do?" Harry asked helplessly. For a scary moment, Fleur hesitated as she thought what to say. Then she suddenly stood again.

"Don't ask me that, Harry." She gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "Please don't ask me that."

Harry stood as well, confused at he tears. "What? Why not? I trust you. You're one of my best friends."

Fleur shook her head fiercely. "You can't trust me now. Although my heart wants me to tell you the opposite, you should talk to Daphne about it."

When Harry hesitated, Fleur shook her head again and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Harry. But I'm going. If you ask me again, I won't control myself and I'll tell you to terminate the contract and come to me."

Harry hugged her back and when they pulled apart, he hesitated again. "But – what if I want to leave the contract and come to you?"

Daphne's heart stopped as Fleur froze. And then, to her happy surprise, Fleur slapped him across the face. Harry didn't even flinch, but now the French witch sniffed and wiped her tears again.

"Please, Harry. I want you to talk to Daphne before you decide anything." Fleur said tearfully. "Please."

Harry rubbed his cheek and nodded, and Fleur left without another word, not trusting herself to have as much self-control. Daphne felt a rush of fondness towards the Veela, and once she'd passed her and Harry had closed his eyes again, Daphne strode out confidently and stood in front of Harry with her arms crossed. He looked up and when he noticed it was her, he flinched.

"Daphne! How – how much of that did you hear?" Harry asked nervously. Daphne sighed and dropped on her bum to sit in front of him. She picked at some grass.

"All of it." She said honestly.

Harry buried his head in his hands and said nothing for a long while. Finally, he spoke. "What do you want me to do? I'm letting you chose."

Daphne blinked. She was shocked that Harry was leaving the responsibility to her. But she knew that wasn't how this would work. "Harry, you know what I want. You know that I've fallen for you. But I want you to be happy, too. And I know my dad wants you to pick the termination. But -" she cut off what Harry was beginning to say, "-I refuse to make that decision for you."

Harry was more surprised than Daphne had been when she once again gave him the freedom of choice. "Why?"

Daphne sighed again and picked some more grass. "This decision will affect you, me, and Fleur. I think that you have good enough judgement to pick what will be the right choice."

Harry's shoulders felt unbearably heavy as the responsibility shifted once more to his shoulders. He hesitated. "What if I pick the wrong one?"

Daphne said nothing but crawled forward to kiss Harry on the lips. This time, Harry had no guilt or other things on his mind. He leaned into the kiss, and this time his whole body was exploding in a million different sensations at once. When they broke apart, Harry felt like he was going through withdrawal.

She smiled sadly. "Please just make the choice you think is right. We will live with consequences, but one thing will never change.

"I will always love you."

-oo-

"Harry, you are a good person. I believe that you will pick the right choice." Viktor said firmly at his side. Harry did not reply, because his nerves were throwing more of a fit than they had before any of the tasks. Fleur flanked his other side.

"Harry." The Veela said. This time, Harry turned his head and listened as they rounded the corner to Dumbledore's office. She continued, "Daphne gave you the right to choose. Pick what will make you happiest."

Harry sighed and said the password. "I don't know what's going to make me happy. I know I could just terminate the contract and date and marry Daphne on my own terms, but I know it would never be the same between us again."

His friends didn't have an answer to that one, and they ascended the stairs to Dumbledore's office and pushed open the doors. Inside the main chamber, Dumbledore sat behind his desk, and Daphne's parents sat to his right. Daphne was quietly conversing with her mother when they walked in. Glancing around, Harry noticed Remus in the corner and approached him.

"Remus, I'm sorry for the things I said before. They were out of line. I understand the pressures of being a werewolf and know what it's like to mourn someone you cared about." Harry said, extending his hand. Instead, the bedraggled-looking man ignored his hand and embraced him.

"Th – thank you Harry." Remus whispered. "I promise I will be good to you from now on."

"I trust you to do so." Harry said back, and when they separated, they clasped arms. With that out of the way, Harry approached the desk, which was set up with a single paper in the center with a quill in a bottle of ink next to it. He sat in front of it and breathed deeply.

"I hope you have given this a lot of thought." Dumbledore said gravely, but kindly. Harry looked at Daphne's family, minus Astoria. The two women sported somewhat worried looks on their faces, while the father sat there with as tony expression. Harry knew that the man was in as much of a dilemma as him. On one hand, he wanted his daughter to choose who she would marry, but also knew that if she could choose, she'd chose the boy sitting in front of them.

"I have, sir." Harry said quietly. Dumbledore nodded.

"It's quite simple. At the bottom of this form, you must simply write, "'I, Harry Potter, head of House Potter and House Black, do hereby declare this contract active.' If you choose otherwise, you must write, "'I, Harry Potter, head of House Potter and House Black, do hereby declare this contract terminated.'"

Harry looked at his friends, who nodded encouragingly at him. But the look in Fleur's eyes betrayed her true intentions; she told him to choose freely, but he knew she wanted him to terminate the contract and go to her.

Then he looked at the family, who had the same expressions on their face. Damien said quietly, "Harry, if I know anything about you, it's that you're a respectable young man on his way to success. We, in turn, will respect any decision you make."

Then Harry locked eyes with Daphne. The girl was rather stony-faced, but just like Fleur, her eyes dictated what she really thought. "I love you, Harry," they said, "please don't hurt me."

Harry looked down at the paper and began to write. When he finally approached 'declare this contract', he hesitated, and looked up at Dumbledore. The old man did not smile. Instead, he simply dipped his head.

Harry took a deep breath and finally wrote the last word quickly. His fingers seemed to go numb along with the rest of his body, and he returned the quill to its ink and pushed the contract roughly towards his headmaster. His old grey eyebrows rose up into his hairline, and he moved the parchment so that the Greengrass's could see it.

Harry could not consider at the moment if his decision was the right one. His mind was seized with complete terror, and he could only watch in helplessness as Daphne read the last line.

She looked up at Harry and for a moment did not react. Then, her eyes began to quickly well up with tears.

Harry thought back to his answer and his own eyes welled up slightly as Daphne's tears began to collect.

Whether Daphne's tears were from happiness or sadness, Harry could not tell.

Indeed, they had always looked the same to him.

**THE END**

-oo-

**A/N (please read all of it)**: I enjoy writing cliffhangers. The funny thing about this one is that I will not be answering it anytime soon. Whether or not you ever get to see Harry's answer depends on the poll result on my profile page. Go check it out!

Now, more things. The next story I will be working on is called _**Privilege**_. Here is the summary:

Blaise Zabini is thrown into a world of depression and insomnia when his mother is killed in his third year. When the gap in his life is begging to be filled, he turns to drugs. When his friends find out, they try to help him only to be shot down. He must endure his life at Hogwarts go on under the influence of vice, and his friends will do anything they can to help him.

If you remotely enjoyed my writing in any way (which would be a shock to me, really), please go look at it. That will be finished before I accomplish either of the things on the poll.

Again, I thank you for sticking with me despite the unfortunately bad quality of this story. Like I said, I am 14 and am looking to be the best write that I can be. Please give me something I can use, if you get my meaning.

Lastly, I must applaud you. Towards the end of this story (and I mean the very end, the last few chapters), I actually began to enjoy writing this pile of garbage. This is due to a) listening to the HP soundtrack over and over again while I wrote and b) YOU. You forced me through this. You forced me to finish my first story ever. THANK YOU.

Now, I shall waste no more of your time. Again, thank you for sticking by me and enjoy your reading. :)


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